‘Your stepmother will be unhappy,’ the guard continued in Pictish. ‘She is a very determined woman. She desired this match between you and Captain Feradach.’
‘My aunt has given us her blessing.’ Ceanna marvelled that she could say the words without her voice trembling. ‘I hope I can count on your loyalty to me and my new husband.’
‘We are loyal to you and your father.’
Sandulf tilted his head to one side. ‘Do you think you can speak in Gaelic so I can understand?’
‘I will have to redouble my efforts in teaching you Pictish,’ Ceanna said in a low voice. ‘But all is well. This man is loyal to a point.’
‘I look forward to your instruction, then.’ The husky undertone to his voice did strange things to her insides.
‘Good,’ she said, making her voice sound brisk, but knowing that her cheeks had suddenly become heated. ‘Before you go, Ecgbert, what I wanted to know is whether you were tasked with a special message for Brother Mattios as well as one for my aunt.’
‘Captain Feradach’s brother?’ the guard said, switching to Gaelic. ‘Funny you should mention him. Brother Mattios was most insistent that there must be a message from his brother and followed me about asking and asking. When we arrived here, the vellum with the message on could not be found, but the most junior member of my team said that Captain Feradach had made him repeat the message five times over because vellum had a way of going missing.’
‘What was the message?’ Sandulf asked.
‘“A Northman asks the way to Nrurim. I’ve need of your skill. Leave immediately, but have a care.” I could not make sense of it, but then Captain Feradach and I have not seen eye to eye for a long time.’
Ceanna’s neck muscles eased. She had done it. She had shown there was a connection. The next time, maybe Sandulf would not be so quick to dismiss how important it was to have her at his side. She could prove her worth to him. She could be his Skadi in truth, his warrior woman.
‘Feradach sent this message to his brother? Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier?’ her aunt asked sharply. ‘Why is Captain Feradach ordering my monk about? I am the one who decides who can leave and who can go.’
The guard bowed deeply. ‘Yes, my lady abbess. Brother Mattios went whiter than snow and rushed off to find you. I thought you knew.’
Her aunt put her hand to her throat. ‘I don’t know what to say. Brother Mattios told me quite another tale about the sons of King Aed needing to depart. He became agitated, but he persuaded me with his argument.’
‘And you let him leave with them?’
‘Yes. They are to go to their aunt in Éireann, away from the whims of the new King or his Regent. He promised.’
‘Now will you allow Brother Mattios’s possessions to be examined? Please,’ Ceanna said.
‘For what purpose?’
‘Because if he is who my wife and I think he is, he will have kept one or two trinkets from his past exploits,’ Sandulf said very slowly. ‘One of his fellow conspirators said that the man I seek always did. From the victims he particularly enjoyed killing.’
Her aunt gave an exasperated sigh.
‘I suppose there is no harm in it. Brother Mattios is not here to defend his reputation, but I suspect the mystery will be easily solved. He did, as I recall, put a few small trinkets to one side, safekeeping for his brother in the advent of his death.’
Sandulf squeezed Ceanna’s shoulder after her aunt left. ‘Thank you for your persistence, Skadi, for ensuring that this happens. I was wrong to dismiss your instincts earlier. I’m sorry. You knew how to handle your aunt far better than I could ever have done.’
‘You are welcome, Husband.’ She inclined her head as the dreams started to grow. ‘If Brother Mattios is who we think he is, those royal children are in grave danger. They may already be dead.’
Her aunt returned with a small, intricately carved wooden casket. ‘Brother Mattios left this with strict instructions that it must go to his brother if he failed to return from his mission. It appears he secured it with beeswax and a seal of some sort.’ She shook it. ‘It sounds as if there is something in there. Make of it what you will. I am beginning to wonder if there is not something in your tale, Northman, and I would like the matter resolved.’
‘Thank you.’ Sandulf took the box from the nun. His stomach knotted. He owed Ceanna a great deal. Her swift thinking had made this possible. He had nearly left for Glannoventa without her. It was like the man who had saved his life on board the ship explained—assassins are like Loki, double dealing and entirely untrustworthy.
He broke the wax seals, opened it and started to shake. On the top of a folded linen cloth lay a small gold figurine, holding out a shield, slightly battered but as shiny as when his father had first shown it to him. He stared up at the ceiling, struggling to get hold of his emotions.
The memories from that day when Ingrid was first given it flooded his brain—his father’s preening at the figure’s sheer weight in gold; Brandt’s look of absolute horror and fury when his father presented it to Ingrid in a brief ceremony; his mother’s anger that her husband should seek to embarrass their son in such a fashion through offering a morning gift to his daughter-in-law as if his eldest son possessed nothing; and how Ingrid had smoothed everything over with a few well-chosen words.
When he felt he could trust his emotions, he handed the box back to Mother Abbe.
‘Satisfied?’ The old woman gave a disingenuous smile, holding her hand out for the box to be given back to her. ‘Ceanna, you must return with your father’s men. Your husband—’
‘Turn that gold figurine over, please,’ he said. ‘I want you
