Ceanna gave a small whimper in her sleep as if something distressed her. Sandulf instantly drew her tighter into his arms. ‘What is wrong?’
Her sleep-filled eyes opened. ‘Stay with me. Always.’
‘I’m here.’
She snuggled closer. ‘Good. I like you being here with me.’
She could have little idea what she was asking. He knew what was coming, who he’d have to meet. She needed to stay elsewhere. Safe.
Rurik and his new wife might take her in, or he could go cap in hand to his middle brother, Alarr, in Éireann. Rurik said that he’d done well and was now a king or on the verge of becoming a king. Surely Alarr would not refuse his request to look after his wife while he pursued Lugh. His gut twisted. He wanted to be with Ceanna and see her smile. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms.
‘I will keep you safe, Ceanna,’ he whispered. ‘That is the most important thing.’
Chapter Eleven
Ceanna woke to sunlight streaming into the room. Her head rested on Sandulf’s chest. She lay and listened to his heartbeat. She should be happy. This was something that she had never considered could happen to her—waking in the arms of a handsome husband with a bright future ahead of them. Except, like a maggot uncurling from an otherwise perfect apple, the thought was doomed, an illusion like the heroes she used to dream up. She had about as much chance of keeping a man like Sandulf happy and contented as she did being able to catch the sunbeam which highlighted his stubble against her fingers.
She raised her hand. His arms immediately tightened.
‘Good morning, sleepyhead,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Once again, you failed to wake before me.’
‘You rarely sleep.’
‘I might make an exception if you promise to stay in my arms every night.’
She basked in the nonsensical lovers’ talk. Ceanna levered her elbow against his chest in order to sit up. He made no effort to hold her. ‘Have you been awake long?’
‘Long enough.’ He gestured. ‘Vanora would like her second breakfast, but I could stay here all day.’
‘She has already had her first one?’
‘I took her out earlier, but you slept through it and, when I returned, you looked so delectable that I couldn’t resist getting back in bed with you and waiting until you woke.’
Her face flamed and she said with embarrassment, ‘I dare say my aunt will want to inspect the sheets to ensure we are properly married. She mentioned something about it as she left last night.’
‘At least she waited until we are ready.’
She swung her legs over the bed and muscles she didn’t know she had until that instant protested. She collapsed back against him. ‘I ache all over.’
His laugh rumbled against her ear. ‘Is that a problem? My brother Brandt took three full days before he emerged with Ingrid.’
‘Our marriage is different. We need to find this Lugh before he strikes again. We have little time to waste.’
‘Yes, I do need to find him.’
There was no mistaking the word I rather than the we she’d expected to hear. Ceanna tightened her jaw.
He reached behind him and held out a golden arm ring. ‘For you as the morning gift. It will have to do for now.’
‘My morning gift?’
All laughter vanished from his eyes. ‘If something happens to me, I’ll not have you starve. I’ll not have you abandoned without anything. It is what men in my family do—look after their brides. I had it made after my first successful voyage. The other one I wear belonged to Lugh. I grew tired of explaining why I only wore one arm ring.’
Ceanna hated the finality of his words. She stared at the intricately marked arm ring. He was going to find an excuse to leave her behind, claiming that it was for her own safety. No one could force her to return to Dun Ollaigh, he’d say. He had kept that side of their bargain, but she was determined to have more. She would demonstrate to him that she was an equal partner in this relationship. Indispensable. She rolled the word around on her tongue. A good word, a word to aspire to, rather than concentrating on the forgettable woman she knew she was. She took the arm ring and put it beside her on the pillow. ‘Thank you. I will treasure it.’
‘My pleasure.’
At his questioning look, she cleared her throat and started on her ‘Make Ceanna Indispensable to Sandulf’ scheme. ‘I thought to ask my aunt if I could inspect the rolls. There might be something there about Brother Mattios—the monk who suddenly left when he heard a Northman was coming.’
‘You seem obsessed by this Brother Mattios and those missing children. Your aunt has given her assurance that he is bona fide, a valuable member of Jarrow before coming here.’ Sandulf put his hands on the top of his head as if that ended the discussion. ‘I can’t believe my sister-in-law Annis lied to me, but she may have misheard the rumour about Lugh’s intentions. She’d little liking for the man. It could be there are more clues in Glannoventa which she and Rurik are unaware of. We start towards there tomorrow, due south to avoid Dun Ollaigh.’
‘What if Brother Mattios actually feared you? What if he used the children as an excuse to get away from the Northern assassin who was coming here?’ she asked, ignoring the little flip her heart did that Sandulf’s immediate plans included them both.
‘Or what if they were his real target?’ Sandulf asked softly.
‘He has been here for eighteen months. I doubt anyone plans that far in the future. He seized an opportunity.’ She balled her fists and hit the bedclothes. ‘I know he isn’t genuine, deep inside me.’
His fingers tightened about hers and he raised them to his lips. ‘It is good that you are so passionate. If you are frightened of travelling south because of the rivers, there may be another way for
