‘What is your meaning, Cedric? The hour is late.’ Rurik was not inclined to sit and listen to the man ruminate any longer than necessary.
The lines around Cedric’s mouth deepened, but he continued. ‘The first time Annis went, she was eight winters, perhaps nine, and Wilfrid promised that he would buy her one trinket of her choosing. She walked from stall to stall, taking her time. I know because I was tasked with following her. Finally, she decided on something... I cannot remember what it was. I handed over a coin and she promptly ran to deliver it into the arms of a village child who stood there bedraggled and obviously unkempt.’
Rurik stood. ‘I do not have time for this.’
Cedric came to his feet and followed when Rurik walked towards the door. ‘There are many more examples of her sense of responsibility to them. Several years ago, before Grim’s death, the village was struck by a sickness. At risk to her own health, she kept the fires working day and night to provide broth and pottage to the sickly, taking it herself in cases where the matron of the family had been struck down. I could also tell you of the times she stood in Wilfrid’s stead, successfully mitigating disputes between families that go back decades—’
Finally having had enough, Rurik interrupted him. ‘Yes, I am aware of her loyalty to the people of Glannoventa. What does that have to do with her betrayal?’
‘It is because of her loyalty that she withheld the truth. We were all afraid of what might happen if the Danes installed their man here. Jarl Eirik can be fair—in his own way—but Dane interests are not our interests. He would be an outsider.’
‘I am an outsider,’ Rurik was fast to point out.
‘But you are not under Jarl Eirik’s thumb. You are your own man. From what I have learned, you are beholden to no one but yourself.’
‘And my family.’ He did not know whether to be insulted by Cedric’s words or gratified by them.
‘Your family is scattered. You have no home but Glannoventa now. Whether you accept it or not, Glannoventa’s interest is your interest.’
‘Is that why you were so quick to choose me for Annis, because you thought I would so easily put myself under your thumb?’ And hadn’t he put himself under Annis’s thumb? A new surge of anger at how easily he had been deceived by her threatened to make him drive his fist into the next man who dared to cross his path.
Cedric backed down, shaking his head. ‘Not under my thumb. Because you were your own man and I knew that you would be fair to our people. Also, because Annis chose you. I had not seen her come to life in years. But she was alive with you.’
‘It did not stop her from betraying me.’
Cedric glared at him. ‘She argued with me many times about that. You can blame me if you want.’
‘I’ll blame the person responsible. Annis,’ he put in before Cedric continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
‘But she did not tell you because of her loyalty to them.’ He gestured towards the village below the walls of Mulcasterhas. ‘We even argued about it the morning your brother arrived.’
So that had been the argument Rurik had witnessed between them. It was good to know, but it hardly changed anything.
‘I say this so that you understand her motive. Give it time before you harden yourself to her. She does not deserve your hatred.’
‘I will decide that,’ said Rurik, walking around Cedric and out of the hall. He was surprised to find Sandulf there waiting for him and stopped short. From his brother’s expression, it was obvious he had heard the exchange.
‘If you want her, you can still have her, Brother. Know that I will not see it as a betrayal,’ said Sandulf, his voice low and solemn.
‘How could you not? She brought those killers to our door.’ It was the one thing Rurik kept coming back to when he felt himself wanting to soften towards her.
‘Wilfrid paid them. They were coming regardless of her presence.’
‘You spoke with Cedric?’
Sandulf nodded. ‘Yesterday. I wanted the details, to try to understand. I am not saying that I forgive her, or that I can ever forgive her, but I understand her side of it. Things can quickly go beyond our control. I have seen it happen more than once and I believe her when she says she did not intend Ingrid harm.’
Rurik ran a hand through his hair, the familiar tug on his scalp grounding him when anger and heartache wanted to take over. ‘I already believe that she didn’t intend harm to Ingrid, but that hardly changes the result.’ Or that she had lied to him.
‘I’ve been thinking more about that day. When I confronted the assassin... Lugh, Annis came between us briefly. He pushed her down, but the distraction was enough to give me time.’
‘Are you saying that she might have saved you?’
‘She helped.’ Sandulf shrugged one shoulder. ‘I will leave her fate to you. Forgive her or punish her—whatever you decide, it is obvious to me that you care for her.’
Rurik felt as if a great, depthless pit opened in his stomach, threatening to swallow him whole. He truly did not know if he could forgive her. The need for vengeance had existed inside him for so long that he could not see his way forward without it. There had been a time with her when he had thought it might be possible.
But not now. Not knowing that she had been involved and had chosen not to tell him. He didn’t know if he was capable of forgiving her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wilfrid died in the small hours of the morning a few weeks later. Annis and Cedric were at his side. Annis had felt helpless in her bedside vigil, watching the man who had become a father to
