‘But you didn’t stop him,’ Sandulf said, stepping closer.
Facing him, she said, ‘I tried. You have to believe that I did not want her death.’ Stepping towards Rurik, she continued, ‘Or the death of her child. Rurik, you must know how the pain of my own loss haunted me. I would never have agreed to do harm to a mother and her unborn.’
Rurik merely stared at her, the coldness in his eyes chilling her to her bones.
‘You attacked me.’ Sandulf’s voice rose, refusing to give up his accusations.
‘Only to defend myself when you came for me. I tried to stop Lugh and you attacked me, then you attacked Lugh.’ In her memory, the next several moments of the battle were a blur. She knew that Lugh had pushed her away roughly, knocking her into a wall so hard that she had become disorientated. Sandulf had attacked Lugh, but the assassin had been bigger and stronger. She had run towards them both and somehow had ended up on the floor with Sandulf above her, carving her wound, before she had twisted away and Lugh had pulled her along as they fled the longhouse.
Sandulf’s brow twisted in confusion as he considered her words.
‘Is it as she says?’ Rurik asked and she held her breath for Sandulf’s answer.
‘Perhaps. I did not see her attack Ingrid, but she was there beside the assassin,’ he answered, latent anger in his voice.
‘To pull him off her!’ Annis argued. ‘She was never part of the plan.’
Rurik looked away again, not listening, and she could hardly blame him. What did her intention matter when the result was that innocents had been killed? She closed her eyes briefly against the pain that lanced through her. Her chest squeezed so tight that she could hardly draw breath. This was how it felt to lose him. It was like losing Grim all over again, only worse. Fresher, and this time like a double-edged blade, because she had caused this all on her own.
‘Where is this Lugh?’ Rurik asked, drawing her gaze to him. ‘Where can we find him?’
She paused, hesitating because she had hoped to put this behind her. She did not want to be the cause of more death and pain.
‘Tell me.’ Rurik stepped closer to her. Fury vibrated off him, the force of it very nearly tangible.
‘I do not want to cause more death. Please let this be the end of it, Rurik.’ She touched his forearm and he jerked it away as if her touch had burned him or was too abhorrent to bear. A fresh wave of agony rolled over her, nearly taking her to the ground.
‘Tell me, Annis.’ He spoke through clenched teeth. ‘Tell me or I will have you committed to the cell below instead of your chamber.’
Whether he would follow through with that or not, she could not say. She knew that she deserved his fury, but that did not help her accept it any easier. The shard of pain his words brought drew a gasp from her as she took a step back. ‘He has chosen to take his vows and repent his sins.’
‘Where has he gone to repent these sins?’ Sandulf spoke with a thread of mockery lacing his voice.
Rurik did not speak, but his cold eyes were frozen on her, letting her know that he would not accept anything less than the man’s location.
Swallowing past the ache in her throat, she said, ‘A monastery in Nrurim. It’s in the Strathallen Valley.’
Rurik and Sandulf exchanged a dubious look.
‘What more can you tell us of what happened in Maerr? If you did not plan to kill Ingrid, then why would Lugh go after her?’ asked Sandulf. He still looked as if he would prefer to mete out physical punishment rather than talk to her.
Rurik seemed finished talking to her. He had crossed his arms over his chest and his face was impassive. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
‘I have asked myself that many times. The way he went for her...it seemed intentional. It was almost as if he knew her. The only thing I remember is that he disappeared from our camp the night before the wedding. I slept poorly that night and woke up to see that he was gone. He had returned by morning.’
‘So he could have met with someone,’ Sandulf concluded.
‘It is possible.’
Sandulf nodded, but his thoughts had turned inwards, probably working through what might have happened. She looked to Rurik. It frightened her that the pain she had seen on his face earlier had gone to be replaced by this impassive stranger she did not recognise.
Hoping that this time he might accept her touch, she raised her hand to his cheek. ‘Please give me a chance to—’
‘Leave us.’ He jerked his face away from her fingers.
The pain in her heart turned to a sort of panic. She feared that if she walked out the door, she would never see the man she loved again. That he would be replaced by this stranger. ‘Rurik, I love you. We can—’
‘Go.’ He did not raise his voice, but the word brooked no argument. ‘Do not attempt to leave Mulcasterhas. I haven’t decided what to do with you yet.’
Despite her best attempt, a hot tear escaped to run down her cheek. He despised her. She loved him beyond reason and he hated her. If there was a worse punishment, she could not imagine it.
The next several days passed in a haze for Rurik. He tried
