Page 141 of Come the Morning

But though they had as yet to be seen by the Viking camp, there had been women among the Vikings who had returned to the valley, and from them, Waryk was able to learn that Mellyora seemed to be well. She was being kept with Lord Renfrew, and though she had no freedom to move about the camp, she had been seen, and she was well.

He lay awake, tortured at night, wondering if Renfrew had raped his wife. If he did, he prayed that she didn’t fight him, that he didn’t hurt her. He wanted her back. It was all that mattered.

In the morning, he supervised the building of their war machines, shouting, harrying, hurrying the men along.

By that afternoon, the Vikings knew that they had come.

A rain of arrows came falling down upon them just before sunset. Thankfully, the great, moving shields had been hastily finished, and they were protected from the falling death. Immediately after the arrows, a messenger arrived, seeking Waryk to surrender the castle at Blue Isle, and all the men would be allowed to leave the field.

“Tell Renfrew and Ulric they will be allowed to live if they return my wife now!” he retorted furiously to the messenger, approaching the man with menace.

Daro caught hold of him, drawing him back. “You can’t let them know how worried you are!” he warned him in a whisper.

“If she comes back to me now,” Waryk said calmly, “they will live. If she is harmed, they will die more slowly than even they, masters of brutality, can imagine.”

“Ulric intends you to die, Laird Waryk. Then he will return with your wife to Blue Isle, and she will accept him as laird in your stead.”

“I cannot oblige Ulric, and, therefore, he must die,” Waryk said.

The messenger left them.

She lay on her pallet, aware that morning had come again. She still felt tired. She had been here two days now, she believed. Renfrew came to taunt her at times. Thankfully, he was too busy planning his battle to threaten her often.

Yet she lay awake, afraid to feel excitement, happiness, relief.

Because Waryk lived. And Daro.

They had not told her, of course. But she had ears, and she had heard.

Her laird had come for her. With his Scottish troops, with Peter of Tyne’s English troops, and with her uncle’s Vikings.

They had not slain one another. They had banded together.

And at first, just knowing that had given her hope and pleasure. But then …

Hours had gone by, and then days, and she had realized that Renfrew was smart, that he had put himself in a powerful place. Battle would not be easily won.

She had tried to step outside the night before; men had been there so quickly and so close that she had felt real terror, imagining that they would begin to hack off her toes with their razor-honed axes. She had lied quickly, pretending she had been seeking them, and asking if there was deep water somewhere near so that she might immerse herself in a real bath. Guards had been sent with her to a small stream; she had bathed in her undershift, but it had still felt good after the time on the road. This morning, however, she lay in desolation again, wondering how long this state of affairs could go on.

The linen screen suddenly moved. She sat up on her pallet, seeing that Renfrew had come, and that he stood over her.

He knelt. She half rose on her elbows, warily shifting away. “Are you feeling better?” he asked politely.

She shook her head.

He smiled. He was a slim man with an ascetic face, yet his eyes and his smile were bitter, cunning, and cruel.

“I don’t think you’re sick at all. I think you’re a liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Well, I shall find out. I have grown bored, my lady, waiting. We’ll see just how sick you are. I am repulsed by such things, so be warned, I will hurt you if you ruin my clothing or create a miserable smell.”

He reached out, grabbing the material of her bodice, and dragging her to him. She struck him furiously, catching him in the face. He instantly returned the blow. Her ears rang, a blinding pain spread out before her eyes. He moved quicklywhile she lay stunned from the blow, straddling her. Her knife remained at her calf, if only …

“Ah, there you are, Lord Renfrew!” Ulric stated suddenly, and he was there as well, seething as he stared down at them both. “Leave the woman be until we know what leverage we need,” Ulric said, mocking the command Renfrew had apparently given him.

Renfrew shrugged. “I’ve decided we don’t need such leverage. You may have your turn.”