‘Lady Annis?’
She jolted at the intrusion of his voice. She had been so consumed by her thoughts that she had not heard whatever he had said to her. He leaned forward now, hands on his knees as if braced for something.
‘Who are these men?’ he asked.
The way his eyes lit up with interest, she knew that he meant to go after them. Annis shook her head. ‘I will not tell you. I will have no more blood on my hands.’
His head tilted, catching the nuance of her words. She said ‘no more blood’ as if she had indeed had plenty of blood on her hands in the past. Silently cursing her own idiocy, she held her back straighter, defaulting to the reserve of poise that had helped her through the last years.
His gaze sharpened, sizing her up as if he would be able to see remnants of that blood. Sometimes she was amazed that everyone could not see the rust-coloured stains. ‘What do you mean? How do you have blood on your hands?’
The door burst open, saving her from answering. They both jumped in surprise, but the Norseman leapt to his feet, turning to face Cedric, who had come armed. His sword gleamed before him as grey light filtered in at his back. It was later than she had thought.
‘The cell was open. I am glad I have not come too late.’ Though Cedric spoke to her, his eyes never left the Norseman who held the dull seax out before him. It was a paltry weapon compared to the sword.
‘This is Rurik of the Kingdom of Maerr,’ she explained. ‘It seems he has come for an explanation of his father’s death.’
That earned her a knowing look and a raised eyebrow from Cedric.
‘I have not come for an explanation,’ Rurik said, biting the words out through his teeth. ‘I have come for vengeance and justice.’
He moved so quickly that, had she had even a little less training, he might have caught her. Instead, she moved backwards out of the reach of the swinging arm that would have grabbed her, toppling over the stool and stumbling to her feet. Apparently, their truce was over. Taking hold of the dagger with both hands, she gained her feet. Their eyes met and held. She did not think he wanted to harm her, but a cornered man was a dangerous man. Before he could decide if he would trade his honour for a chance at that justice, three more men rushed into the chamber.
Chapter Seven
Rurik fought them like a beast being forced back to his cage. For that was exactly what he was and he had decided to embrace the comparison. He could have easily taken two of them on, perhaps even all four of them with a proper weapon. The seax was all but useless and he finally tossed it at one of them in favour of his fists. He landed several good blows, taking the first two down, but the older one hung back, wiser than the others with his years of experience.
Lady Annis hung back as well, her eyes wide and alert, but she had already come to the inevitable conclusion. He could fight, but in the end he would be dragged back to his cell like an errant mongrel. The assured resignation on her face fanned another blaze of fury to life within him and he fought with renewed vigour.
More men came in until the chamber seemed to overflow with them. Rurik felt as though he was drowning. One man was downed, but his place was taken by another, like treading water in the increasing fury of a storm. The heel of a boot kicked Rurik’s leg out from under him, sending him down on one knee. That was enough to give them the upper hand. Faces closed in above him. Raising his arm to keep the fists away from his already sore nose, it was quickly jerked away and twisted behind his back. Another man grabbed the other. Rurik fought, but he was tired and outnumbered.
‘That is quite enough.’ Lady Annis’s voice filled the room with authority. It worked to halt the blows, but his arms felt near to breaking. ‘Take him below.’
‘So much for our truce.’ It was not wise, but he could not help the sneer that twisted his features.
‘The truce? You tried to grab me!’
‘Get him below.’ Cedric interrupted their argument with the order. ‘He broke the lock on the chain and the door. The one on the cell seems to be working.’
‘Not for long,’ Rurik promised as they dragged him out. He did not make it easy for them, but there was no escaping. They pulled him down the stairs and all but tossed him into the cell. At least there was no chain to bind his wrist this time. He ran at the cell door, but was not able to stop them from locking it.
‘I will not be kept down here as a prisoner!’ he yelled, knowing that his voice would reach the main floor before they closed that door. ‘Lady Annis! Come and face me! We have more to discuss!’
The door closed with a bang on its old hinges, but he was not going to give up easily. He kept up the yelling all day, hoping that he was being heard.
The light that seeped through the crack in the stone had started to wane when Rurik heard the door over the stairs open. The familiar tread of her boots on the steps told him that Lady Annis had finally deigned to pay him a visit. She was dressed in the finery befitting her station when she presented herself to him before the bars. Her gown was a finely woven wool in a suitable but sumptuous golden colour. She wore no
