Ketil was amazed yet again by Miriam’s selflessness. He hadn’t even spared a thought for the jester and yet, here she was, wondering if he had survived the attack. Though she didn’t spell it out, her fear for him was very real. It was one more indication of why she would make a good queen, yet she needed someone to temper that kind heart.Unpalatable decisions were sometimes required of a leader. He knew that at first hand and, having been groomed to become Jarl from birth, it was something intrinsic to his nature, even now, when there was scant chance of that in his homeland.Resolving to make it his personal mission to find out about the jester, Alaric, when he was in a position to do so, he rose early while Miriam was still sleeping and went to wash in a nearby pool.Sigurd joined him without a word, which was unusual for him. He had to find a way to break through that wall of ice.“Say something,” he urged, before submerging himself once more.“She is changed.”“No more than you.
Miriam knew some of what was coming when Sassa opened up to her, having overheard more than she should near the pool. In her admittedly limited experience of men, she had learned one thing: go with your heart. She reflected that it explained a lot about Sigurd’s outlook on life, his behaviour towards women. While the role of matchmaker was new to her, she had to try for the sake of peace within the group. If this new tension wasn’t resolved, and swiftly, how would they ever defeat the Masked King? When the opportunity came to speak separately to the red-bearded giant she seized it, though all she said was she hoped he wouldn’t judge Sassa too harshly for the fate which had befallen her. “What about you, Princess?” he had surprised her by asking. “Do you hate Ketil for being a part of separating you from your family and your old way of life?” “No, Sigurd,” she replied. “I was unhappy there.” “And now?” he pressed. Unused to such concern from a man to whom she wasn’t close, Miriam
It was so easy to mortify his lady, even when he assumed she would take his comments in good part. Astrid would have, but she had been raised in the Viking way where modesty was usually mocked and men and women alike were comfortable with their nakedness. Though, he had to admit, his half-sister and Sigurd would need some time to adjust to their new relationship. Were it not for her unfortunate past he might have bedded her already, but the easy jokes had not returned and his face was serious more often than not, which added up to only one thing: they hadn’t yet consummated their love. With Miriam, he had simply assumed it would never happen. Loving her from afar as he did was enough, until she fell into his lap because he could not allow anyone else to buy her. He had been so angry; he still was. Rumours abounded about the Masked King, claiming he dined regularly on human flesh and tore apart the women unlucky enough to find favour in his eyes. Had he spread those himself or was some
Alerted by a sudden noise to his left, he realised he’d ventured forth without a weapon. Not good. No doubt Magnus would rib him about it later. He seemed to be the one poking fun these days. Unless it was the man himself making a point.Ketil heard a sigh, followed by the sound of something being plucked from the earth. A toadstool would be his guess. So it must be a woman, but he didn’t detect Miriam’s signature rosewater scent. She must have bathed in it so often it lingered and usually alerted him to her proximity.Rising from the grass, he remained concealed behind the bole of the oak tree itself just in case his instincts were as awry as his memory – how could he have forgotten to bring a blade? Whoever it was began to hum a lullaby he seemed to recognise from his time at the palace. That ruled Daphne out. She had a deep voice and he could not really imagine her even holding a baby, let alone singing to it.Astrid had not been there while he was fulfilling his guard duties, so t
The army amassed by Ketil, though not vast, was at least skilled judging by the practice sessions. She was no expert, of course, but Daphne said the men seemed more than competent. Quite how she knew that was open to question, but it was what Miriam wanted to hear, so she gave little thought to how easily the mercenaries had been overcome when taken by surprise. Their leader had seemed to be able to come and go as he pleased, though even he had been careless enough to leave himself unprotected a time or two.She had some thinking to do regarding the Norseman. Had she given herself to him initially to avoid being sent away? It was hard to say. Normally, she was not that bold or cynical, but circumstances dictated everyone’s behaviour, didn’t they? Daphne was a prime example of that, though still impossible to fathom. Irrespective of that, Miriam felt bound to him now. Yet, if it came to a choice between him and her people she did not know how she would make it. The kingdom needed a man
The waiting was the worst part. At least, she thought it was initially. Countless women must have stayed behind wondering if their husbands, brothers and sons – in some cases, their fathers – would return unscathed from a battle. Miriam had never experienced such a thing and it was setting her teeth on edge. No, her sister was doing that all by herself.For some reason she had suggested a dancing competition. Sassa was willing but not Ruth.“Let us show Jenna how it’s done. How else will she persuade someone of higher rank to wed her?”Tactful, as usual, that was Daphne.“They are very happy together. And Orm is not related to Ketil and Magnus. Can you not see they love each other?”“What a naïve girl you are, sister dear. Why don’t you wear the green costume, if Ruth isn’t participating? It matches your eyes.”In order to keep the peace, Miriam went along with it, though it was a pain to be wrapped up in the many separate veils. She quite liked the one covering her face. Sassa had to
The element of surprise had not been enough. Hand-to-hand combat soon showed Ketil how inexperienced his new recruits were, but they lacked nothing in valiance and soon secured vital areas before he and Sigurd made their way to the Great Hall. The Masked King was not seated on the throne. In fact, he was nowhere to be found in this particular wing. They caught up with him in the mirrored room, a bejewelled lovely on his lap while yet another was chained to the wall naked and awaiting whatever punishment The Lizard chose to bestow. Sigurd wasted no time in knocking him out with one blow from his mailed fist. The courtesan seemed to be drugged, and barely reacted, but the other woman began to scream. “Be quiet,” Ketil urged, going up to her and freeing her from her bonds with the key he’d located around her tormentor’s waist. She promptly fainted, and he realised he should have removed his helm. Even Miriam seemed wary of it. There was little to be done after that. The dungeons were
Miriam found she needed to swat away troublesome flies more often than wandering hands. She had been dismayed when they were forced to get into a small riverboat. This would eat up the distance quicker than anyone following them. She glared at each man in turn, mentally comparing them to Ketil and deciding they didn’t measure up.Beards didn’t make the man; the man wore the beard. These were straggly and not particularly clean. The same applied to their clothing, patched and torn in places. Their black eyes showed only avarice or lust, while she was hoping for surprise followed by concern at the advent of strangers.She nudged her sister. “Which one is yours, do you think?”Daphne was in another of her huffs and refused to speak.Miriam had tried to leave signs along the way, breaking off twigs where possible and even dropping a diaphanous veil. Her hairpins she assumed she might need for protection. But here on the water, it was harder. Maybe another veil? Modesty would not help her