Cedric was a dear friend and advisor and she longed to have his guidance in this. Yet, however much she trusted him, it would be best if he kept away from the Norseman. He was the only one who was truly innocent in this entire tragedy, and she hoped that it would stay that way.
‘So it is true. You took the Norseman.’ His brow was furrowed in both anger and concern as he closed the distance between them.
‘Alder told you?’ While she had not expected the events of the previous night to stay secret, she had hoped to break the news to Cedric herself.
‘Is it true?’
Nodding, she said, ‘I took him his morning meal. He’s fine.’ Ready to spit fire because he was so angry, but otherwise fine.
‘You should allow someone else to deal with him.’
It would suit her if no one knew that the Norseman was down there, but, unfortunately, that was impossible. While no one had seen them load him into the cart and they had kept him covered on the short drive from the village, she had no doubt that a vigilant servant would have seen them taking him downstairs and she could not hide the fact that she took him food. Servants would eventually begin to talk.
‘He is my responsibility,’ she said.
Losing her unborn child so soon after her husband’s death had left Annis with a well of grief so deep it seemed she would never be whole again. The need for revenge had filled the empty spaces they had left behind in her heart. This was her mission. She wanted to limit the involvement of the others as much as possible.
Cedric’s scowl deepened. Something in his face had always reminded her of a handsome falcon. His nose was prominent and blade straight with well-shaped nostrils. That, combined with a lean face and high cheekbones, would have been enough. But his eyes completed the impression, since they were dark and observant, always taking in what was happening. In her childhood, he was often the one who would catch her in some mischief before she had scarcely started it.
‘The danger to you is too great to allow—’ He abruptly broke off at the sound of footfalls. Gently taking hold of her arm, he led her down the wide corridor.
Their home occupied the ruins of the praetorium in the old Roman fort. Wilfrid and his ancestors had prided themselves on caring for the structure. Most of the walls had been maintained with new stone and plaster over the centuries, as had the roof. As the original commander’s home, it was built in the Roman style with rooms surrounding an atrium and a courtyard. This was where Cedric led her now. It was the one place no one would disturb them and had been the setting for many of her childhood lectures. Once she had come to live with Wilfrid, Cedric had wasted no time in picking up those lectures where Father Cuthbert had left off. She nearly rolled her eyes as she might have years ago.
Closing the great wooden double doors behind them, Cedric turned to face her. ‘You must not see to the prisoner, Annis. Let someone else do it.’
‘You do not understand. I must do it myself.’
‘I do not understand?’ He waved his hands in agitation before settling them on his hips. ‘If he were to escape, he would harm you.’
She inclined her head in acknowledgement of his concern for her. ‘Please trust that you and Grim taught me well. I can use the dagger at my hip and am fast when speed is needed.’
His sharp gaze caught on the dagger at her hip. ‘It’s not your skill that I question, child, but your experience with this particular type of beast. You have never faced an opponent with nothing to lose. He is trapped down there and would harm even himself if it meant any hope of escape.’
Suddenly, things did not seem quite so clear to her. Even though there was a peal of truth to his words, she said, ‘That is a bit of an exaggeration. He’s hardly a beast.’
‘He is,’ Cedric said without hesitation. ‘For all that he is a man, he is chained and kept in a cage. Soon the animal will win out and he’ll be acting on instinct. He is a heathen Norse. They cannot be trusted to take into account refinements.’
‘What refinements?’
‘That you are a woman. That you are the lady of this household.’
Her heart pounded in response to the vision that brought to mind, causing her to place a hand on her breast to attempt to settle it. She did not particularly like it that she might be the one responsible for turning a man into an animal. She also did not think that any man, Norse or otherwise, would take into account that she was a woman if he escaped. She had learned to fight because she would be treated as a warrior.
Deciding to ignore that, she said, ‘He is being cared for. He is chained, but he can move about freely. He has food and water.’
‘Food and water, but the threat of death hangs over his head.’
Pain beat behind her temple. Cedric was right. The scene he described was very accurate. She had put that man in a cage and he would soon turn into a raving beast. Guilt and self-loathing ate at her from the inside. She had taken a terrible turn of events—the fact that he had come here seeking vengeance—and made them even worse. If anyone should be in a cage it should be her and that Gael assassin who had gone to Maerr and killed with Wilfrid’s coin in his purse.
But what could she have done
