‘And that bothers you?’
She tilted her chin upwards. ‘Not in the slightest.’
‘Then you’re a better person than I am.’ He gave a half-smile. ‘I was furious when my family decided to send me away after my father’s death. That anger kept me going for months, if not years. Still does.’
Ceanna stilled. Could that be Sandulf’s reason for going to Nrurim? Something to do with his family? An old score to settle, perhaps? ‘What did you do about it?’
‘That is why I am here.’
‘Do you want to speak about it?’
He quickly shook his head. ‘I need to cook the fish.’
She pressed her lips together. ‘I’ll find something to balance the fish on. Be useful rather than decorative.’
‘Lady Ceanna, I rarely speak about my family.’
‘It is well then that I didn’t ask you to,’ she replied, stung. He was back to calling her Lady Ceanna again. The ease between them had evaporated. All because of her curiosity. What did it matter to her why he was going to Nrurim? Other people lived there besides the monks and nuns at the abbey. King Aed, his sons and his court had been there recently. It was where he had met his untimely end. From the rumours she’d heard, his murderer remained at large and the boys were missing, presumed dead.
He turned away from her and started gutting the fish, much to Vanora’s delight.
As a peace offering, Ceanna hurried down to the loch and discovered two flattish stones that would serve as trenchers. She rinsed them off before she returned to where Sandulf had built a fire.
‘Impressive,’ she said, nodding towards the fish gently sizzling on a flat rock which was set nearly in the fire. ‘I had wondered how you would cook them.’
‘I know how to live off the land.’ He gestured about him. ‘People can starve if they are unaware of the bounty nature provides.’
‘Then I’m grateful you know,’ she said when she trusted her voice not to scream that she was far from a feather-brained lady who simply did needlework. She held out the flat rocks. ‘And now we have something to eat on.’
He nodded. ‘Good thinking, but I found some leaves to put the fish on.’
Her heart sank. He seemed more remote than ever. ‘We can put the leaves on top of the stones. Saves burnt fingers.’
‘We can do that.’ He gave one of his smiles that made her heart swoop. ‘And I made sure to gather a few extra leaves as it is quite a useful herb, one of the nine herbs Odin gave the world to help with healing.’
‘The others are?’
‘Mugwort, betony, lamb’s cress, mayweed, nettle, crabapple, thyme and fennel. My mother made sure I knew them before I left home for the first time. A warrior must know how to heal as well as how to kill his enemy.’
‘She sounds like a good mother—worried about her son.’
Sandulf’s mouth became a thin white line. ‘She had her moments. Her temper could be swift and ungovernable, though. She always resented my half-brothers and used to try to stop me from following them about. She never succeeded.’
‘Your relationship sounds complicated.’
‘It is,’ he said in a tone which indicated he did not want to discuss it.
Ceanna winced. She had done it again. Her words were supposed to be friendly. He had taken them as prying.
‘I can be too curious,’ she said, coming to sit beside him. She carefully put the large leaves on the rocks, two or three leaves to each stone. ‘I like to know too many things, like these herbs of Odin. Your family are in your past, not mine.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He waved his hand, but took the stones. ‘Hunger gnaws at our bellies and never improves anyone’s temper. I said I don’t want to speak about my family, but with you, I keep finding reasons to mention them. I hadn’t thought about the nine herbs in years. But you are right—my mother did...does care about what happens to me.’
‘Is she still alive?’
‘As far as I know, but she has another life now. A new husband, according to my half-brother. She took his part in a quarrel with my older brother.’
‘When my father remarried, he put my stepmother first most of the time. Suddenly she wore many things which had belonged to my mother.’ Ceanna stabbed at the fish. ‘It hurt. It was as if my mother had ceased to exist and all the ways she had done things were wrong. My father refused to see how she was punishing the loyal servants. When I tried to stop her, I was deemed a nuisance and a bother.’
He put the fish on to a leaf-covered rock and passed it to her. ‘Eat the fish, not the plant, Skadi,’ he said with a mock-severe look. ‘You don’t want to make yourself sick and do your stepmother’s work for her.’
She took a bite and discovered the fish melted in her mouth. She might be running for her life towards an uncertain future, but somehow everything seemed easier. ‘Food tastes even better when you are really hungry.’
Chapter Six
Sandulf concentrated on the remains of his fish. He’d spoken the truth—he did not like even thinking about his family except to consider about how he’d avenge them. Even in the short time he’d known Ceanna, she had him remembering things he’d buried deep down and each time they hurt a little less. All he knew was that once he had done what he said he would, that dark empty place in the middle of his being would vanish.
‘Your friend appeared very eager to help you and blacken my name,’ he said when she handed the remains of her fish to Vanora who set about it with a great eagerness, even though the dog had already consumed two fish of her own.
