To her relief, Sandulf smiled. ‘Freeing my brother is the most important thing. Discovering how he was captured.’
‘Feradach and his brother are sure to be in the square when Urist makes his accusation. They won’t be looking for a move from the prisoner.’
‘I want to know why the fool travelled here. I had everything under control.’ He shook his head. ‘Despite everything he said, Rurik doesn’t trust me to accomplish this on my own.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do. I know what my brothers are like. I’m the baby of the family for ever, toddling around behind them. A wooden sword clutched in my fist, never a steel one. They do not see the warrior I’ve become, the things I have achieved and all the things I am capable of achieving in the future.’
‘Yet you long to be a part of the brotherhood.’
Sandulf was silent for a long heartbeat. ‘I do. More than anything.’
Chapter Thirteen
Sandulf was pleased that they would be operating under cover of darkness. He had to admit that Ceanna’s plan was a sound one. There were flaws—not the least her being in the square rather than waiting safely with Bertana back at the tavern. But he had accepted that he would need help getting Danr back if he was going to take his place.
She was asking him to trust that the villagers would rise up in support of her once they had gathered to see Urist’s viewing of the prisoner. But he didn’t have a better plan and he did know time was of the essence. In his mind, he could hear his brothers arguing and he knew what each of them would say about the scheme. Brandt would counsel that it was far too risky. Alarr would warn him against being caught without a weapon. Rurik would scout out the lie of the land and have three other backup plans. Danr, well, he’d notice Ceanna’s ankles and tell him that he was being a fool for not telling her how he felt. But how could he when he had this hanging over him?
‘Are you ready? Do you have enough dirt on your face?’ Ceanna asked, lifting her hood. ‘Have we thought of every eventuality?’
‘I will take a dagger. Just in case it is not a fair hearing as you think it will be.’
‘It would be highly unusual for my father to behave in any other way. He will want his daughter’s murderer punished according to the law.’
‘Nevertheless, I remain cautious. I would be a fool to be caught without one.’ Sandulf slipped the slender blade into a special pocket in his right boot. He’d purchased the boots in Constantinople, after he’d seen how the hidden dagger in a friend’s pair had saved both their lives.
It had struck him at the time that of all his brothers, Danr would be the most envious of the boots. Danr was fond of his clothes and said that it was the cut of his boots that endeared him to the many women who fell at his feet.
An unaccustomed throb of pain went through Sandulf. He wanted to hear Danr joke again. He missed his brother’s teasing jests; he missed the faint pause after his outrageous statements as if Danr was waiting to judge the reaction; mostly he’d missed the sound of his brother’s voice.
‘We will free him,’ Ceanna said.
He gave a quick smile and squeezed her hand. ‘Yes, we will. Together.’
She answered his attempt at a smile with a genuine one of her own. His heart ached afresh.
Whose happiness would he put first—his wife’s or his brother’s? He pushed the thought away. It wouldn’t come to that. He had to survive first.
The faint silver of moonlight lit the market square, silhouetting the post. Ceanna stifled a cry. Sandulf’s brother had collapsed against the wooden spar, with sagging knees and hands held over his head.
‘Stay here,’ Sandulf said in a low voice. ‘Until I give the order. There may be watchers.’
Ceanna sighed. ‘How can I help if I remain in the shadows?’
‘Ceanna!’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Do this for me. Please.’ Sandulf hurried over to where his brother was slumped. ‘We will get you out of here alive, Danr.’
Danr groaned. Ceanna saw Sandulf wince and fumble with the ropes. There was no way Danr would be able to walk on his own towards her.
Ignoring Sandulf’s earlier order, Ceanna ran over to them. He raised his brow.
‘You need another pair of hands.’
He nodded. ‘When I release the ropes, keep his head from touching the ground.’
‘I’ve got him.’
He carefully undid the ropes, muttering a curse as one of the knots stuck but he persisted. It finally gave way suddenly. Danr slumped. Staggering under the weight, Ceanna managed to lower him down gently.
Up close, the resemblance to Sandulf was apparent. Even if she hadn’t known of the relationship, she would have guessed they were related.
He nodded his thanks to Ceanna.
‘All right, Danr? Your baby brother has nearly rescued you.’
His brother gave a faint groan which sounded like, ‘Took your time, you fumbling idiot.’
‘I don’t know why I ever expected thanks from you, Danr. Maybe I should leave you here to die.’
Danr opened one eye. ‘It is you, Sandulf. Rurik said you were here when he sent me north. I half-doubted him. You know what Rurik can be like. Then these crazy people claimed I murdered the daughter of their lord. Never saw the woman in my life. Now you turn up and I know it must be all your fault.’
‘Rurik is happy with his lady?’
Danr closed his eyes. ‘Utterly.’
‘We need to get him away from here. Before anyone realises what is happening,’ Ceanna said in a hoarse whisper.
‘Ceanna, I may not get the chance again.’
Ceanna forced a smile, trying to banish the sudden clench of fear at the risk Sandulf was taking. ‘You will have a chance. Our plan will work. Now get the
