Paying the Viking's Price. Michelle Styles
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a soothing phrase, rather than screaming at Hilda to pull herself together.
She could never stoop so low as to scream at Hilda. She knew whose bed her husband had shared the last time he was here. Everyone knew it. The whispers had flown around the hall until she thought everyone had looked at her with pity. Edith despised pity. It did not mean she approved of her cousin’s affair with her husband. Far from it, but she knew what Egbert was like underneath the good humour he showed to visitors and people who might have been able to assist him. If Hilda had objected to his advances, he’d have raped her. Sending her away hadn’t been an option while Egbert was alive. And now there were the Norsemen at the door.
‘I will mouth the words of fealty if it comes down to it,’ Edith said in her firmest voice. ‘You will see, Hilda. All will be well once I do.’
‘You?’ Hilda put her hand to her throat and the hysterics instantly stopped. ‘But will this Norseman jaarl accept your word?’
Edith clenched her fists. Hilda should trust her. Hadn’t she looked after the estate, making certain it prospered while Egbert indulged his passion for hunting and whoring? ‘He will have to. This land has belonged to our family since time began. And I will not be the one to lose it.’
‘You mean you expect him to marry you.’ Hilda tapped her nose. ‘Clever. I wish I’d a dowry like that instead of my looks. You’ll be dressed in silks and ribbons and forget about us.’
‘I’ve no expectations,’ Edith said carefully. Marriage to a Norseman was the logical solution, even if she hated the thought of being married again. An unmarried widow with a large estate was too great of a prize. ‘But you’re wrong if you think I could ever forget this estate and its inhabitants. They are my people. Every single one of them.’
‘Your husband will be turning in his grave, cousin, to think that you of all people should swear allegiance to the Norse king.’
‘My father swore fealty to Halfdan in Eoferwic, ten years ago. Egbert broke that promise, not me.’
Hilda shook her carefully coiffured head and her bee-stung lips gave a little pout. ‘I expected more somehow. You were his wife for seven years. Are you sure the king won’t worry about that? You must have shared some of the same views.’
Edith raised her chin. How dare Hilda question her as if she was a common servant? Her entire being trembled with anger and she longed to tell a few home truths to Hilda. Instead Edith gulped air and concentrated on controlling her temper.
‘When did Egbert and I ever agree on anything?’ she said as steadily as she dared. ‘Lord Egbert is no longer the master here. He ceased to be when he breathed his last. The hall and its land were never fully his. We shared responsibility. I know the marriage terms my father negotiated. The hall and its lands were to be returned to me should anything happen to Egbert. And I intend to keep them safe.’
‘Cousin, this is no time for jesting.’ Hilda widened her pale blue eyes. ‘You know little of the art of war. Egbert always used to say—’
‘It’s the people of this land I must consider.’ Edith glared at Hilda. The last thing she wanted to hear was her late husband’s opinion on her many failings. ‘The Norsemen should accept my assurance and my gift. They should move on to the next estate, hopefully without burning our hall or forcing a marriage. We survive whatever happens. Survival is important.’
Edith wasn’t sure who she wanted to convince more—her cousin or herself.
‘They will take everything that is not nailed down, even if you don’t have to marry.’ Hilda turned pale. ‘You know what the Norsemen are like! Two years ago in the south before I journeyed to you, all the farms were ablaze and the women... Promise me that you won’t allow that to happen to me. I saw unspeakable things. You must protect me. Lord Egbert would expect it.’
‘I have taken precautions. My parents taught me well. The Norsemen have been a danger for years.’ Edith gave Hilda a hard look. ‘We survived before. My parents even entertained Halfdan in the early years.’
‘What should I do?’ Hilda wrung her hands. ‘Lord Egbert always made sure I had a special task in times of emergency. On second thought, I should be the one to speak first. Soften their hearts with a gentle word. You can be abrupt, cousin. Allow me to win their regard with a smile.’
Edith stared at Hilda in disbelief. Was she serious in her offer? Her entire being recoiled at the thought of Hilda greeting the Norsemen in her stead. And she’d been the one to think of employing Hilda in some task to save her from Egbert’s ire. Egbert could only be bothered with Hilda and her demands when it suited him.
Even now, Hilda had started to prance about the hall, practising the gestures she’d make as if she was the one in charge.
‘You see, cousin, how much better I’d do it?’
‘Hilda, I need you to go to the stew pond and make sure the various dams are closed. I’ve no wish to lose fish because the men are slack,’ Edith said, retaking control of the situation.
‘You mean...’
‘I will greet the Norsemen, dressed simply, and explain about our meagre circumstances. We have avoided being burnt out before. We may do so again. Trust me.’
‘You mean I might avoid the Norsemen? Altogether?’ Hilda stopped.
‘There is that possibility.’ Edith held out her hand. ‘You would be doing me this small favour, cousin. It would put my mind at ease to know this task was properly done.’
‘As you wish, cousin, you are the lord here now.’ Hilda made a curtsy which bordered on discourteous and left the main hall with her skirts swishing.
Edith sighed. There had to be some decent farmer that Edith could marry her off to. She’d provide a reasonable dowry so the man would take her. The question was who, given the common knowledge about her relationship with Egbert. Edith tapped her finger against her mouth. All that could wait until the current crisis was solved. She had to concentrate on the matter at hand and ensure that everything had been done. No mistakes made.
She adjusted her wimple so that her black hair was completely covered as she cast an eye about the hall, searching for things left undone.
The majority of the silver and gold were safe in the cavity. There was no need to check that. She was the only one who knew about it.
The pagan Norsemen were no respecters of churches or monasteries. If anything their wealth attracted the raiders. When her father showed her the hiding place, he recounted the story about the Lindisfarne raid and the countless other raids. However, he boasted about his alliance with Halfdan and confidently predicted she’d never need it.
She had kept a few trinkets to appease the Norsemen, but they had to believe that they were poor and the farm was not well managed so that they would not demand an enormous payment. Her father had drilled that notion into her head since she had first toddled about the yard.
‘The Norsemen never stay long. Raiders rather than settlers. They move swiftly and overlook the well hidden,’ she whispered over and over as she tried to decide where she’d stand. She practised her gestures and decided against kneeling with hands raised in supplication. A bowed head would suffice. Welcoming, but far from subservient.
She could do this. She had to. Everyone in the steading was counting on her to save them from the Norsemen. There were no warriors to fight. No one but a barely bearded boy had returned from the rebellion. And he’d been burning with fever and had only survived a day or two after telling his story of the Norsemen treachery and Egbert’s final heroic stand. He had found his courage far too late, but she was glad that he had found it.
Heavy boots resounded on the stones outside. Edith pressed her fist to her stomach and willed the sick feeling to be gone. Far too soon. She hadn’t even had the chance to move the spindles or the whorls.
Why hadn’t there been more warning? Why hadn’t someone seen the fires that surely must be burning as