‘And of course Wilfrid wanted a part.’ The bitterness in Cedric’s tone was not lost on her. Wilfrid had not shared this with even his most trusted man.
Squeezing his hand gently, she said, ‘He did, but was too ill to go.’ A huff of air escaped Cedric, so she touched his shoulder to offer him some solace. ‘Wilfrid did not want you to know, because he knew you would not approve. He did not want you to be a part of it in case it went badly again.’
‘But you were a part of it? You went in Wilfrid’s place?’ He could not keep his disbelief from his voice.
Shaking her head, she said, ‘Wilfrid does not know that I went. I overheard a bit of their conversation, so I knew he paid them some up front. I approached the assassins secretly and demanded to be a part of it. I did not trust them not to run off with the coin and never set foot in Maerr.’ She looked down at her lap. Her voice lowered when she added, ‘The truth is that I also wanted revenge for Grim and our child. I wanted to see Sigurd dead myself to know that he was punished for their deaths.’ She also felt that by losing her babe, she had failed to give Wilfrid the only part of his beloved son that was left. It was only right that she participate to help bring some sort of justice for their family’s losses.
Cedric rose to his feet as the implications of her words settled over him. ‘Then this Norseman—the one who arrived yesterday—is from Maerr?’
‘I believe that he may be.’
‘Do you recognise him? Does he recognise you?’
She shook her head and rose to stand before him, hurrying to explain. ‘We have learned that his name is Rurik and he arrived yesterday on a ship looking for Wilfrid. I believe that he might be one of Sigurd’s many sons. As we were waiting for the wedding to begin, I learned all their names in case something like this came to pass. However, I never saw the one named Rurik. He was away.’
Though she had met one of them up close. Sandulf. He had been barely more than a boy, but he had marked her. The scar he had left on her lower back throbbed with her guilt.
‘And your mission was a success. Sigurd was killed,’ Cedric concluded. Word had reached them of Sigurd’s death months later.
‘He was killed, but not because of me or the assassins.’ When she closed her eyes, she could relive the mad fury that had broken out in the hall. The whole place had erupted into a battle. ‘We did not know it, but there were others there who had come with the same intentions. Someone else killed Sigurd.’
And the others. So many others had died when it was only supposed to be Sigurd. The men Wilfrid had hired had battled for their lives against the other warriors. The Gael, their leader, was the one who had broken from the plan. He had attacked a pregnant Norse woman, a wife of one of the sons, and brutally killed her. Annis had tried to stop him, but she had been too late to intervene.
‘Then why has Rurik come?’ Cedric asked, breaking up her thoughts.
Annis shrugged. ‘The longhouse was chaos. It is possible that no one knows who drew the blade on Sigurd. And there were other deaths that he would want to avenge.’ The blonde woman, her belly swollen with child, had met a gruesome end beneath the Gael’s sword. The memory of her death was burned into Annis’s mind. She had relived it so many times that she could recall the exact pitch of the woman’s scream and how she had reached out into the empty air in the end, hoping to be saved.
The memory was too painful to share with anyone. Instead, she said, ‘Perhaps he has come to exact vengeance on anyone involved. He would likely think Wilfrid was involved because that idiot Gael insisted on calling me by that name. It is possible that someone heard it and made the connection.’
She had disguised herself and had even contrived a new name, but the Gael had surprised her by using the name Wilfrid. It was as if he had delighted in using Wilfrid’s name in front of others. Perhaps he had wanted this to happen all along. If someone came for the group of assassins, they would seek a man named Wilfrid because he would be easier to find. Had she been smarter, she would have made certain that everyone knew the Gael’s name. She was not smart. She was not even strong.
‘Is it possible that the assassins have been found and betrayed you?’
‘Anything is possible, but the Norseman asks for Wilfrid.’
Cedric nodded and hung his head in a look that suspiciously resembled defeat. It tore at her heart.
‘I am sorry, Cedric. I have led us to this fate and I will accept responsibility. Wilfrid need never know that the Norseman is here.’
Cedric stared down at her, all kindness wiped from his features, but his voice was not harsh when he said, ‘Wilfrid paid them and he agreed to be a part of the first assassination attempt, so he bears the brunt of the responsibility.’
‘It is kind of you to say so, but if anything, we share responsibility. The Norseman would not be here now had I not gone to Maerr.’
‘He paid the assassin. It is possible the Gael would have used Wilfrid’s name while there.’
Annis inclined her head in acknowledgement. That was true; there was no telling how the assassin might have betrayed them. However, it did not relieve her of any responsibility for her own actions. She had chosen to go. She would have to face the consequences of that decision.
‘We have to kill him.’ Cedric’s words were so abrupt and
