Saying the words out loud helped and the sheer nauseating panic which had choked her subsided.
‘Ceanna? I think I was supposed to have murdered a Lady Ceanna,’ Danr said.
‘This is Lady Ceanna, my wife, and she is very much alive.’
‘That figures.’
Ceanna put an arm around Danr and helped him to rise. She started to lead him away, but he stumbled and his heavy weight fell into her. A low moan escaped her throat. She gritted her teeth and redoubled her efforts, but his bulk prevented her from moving very fast.
Sandulf put an arm around Danr’s other shoulder and pulled him off her. ‘Let’s get you gone before the ropes go on my wrists.’
Danr shrugged him off. ‘I can walk. Give me a chance to get the blood moving in my feet. Always in a hurry, you.’
‘My fault, not his,’ Ceanna whispered. ‘My ankle turned.’
‘You go with my wife,’ Sandulf said in a low voice. ‘When we are done here, we will speak properly. How in the name of Sigurd you got yourself in this situation, I will never know!’
Danr put his hands on his knees. Sweat poured from his brow. ‘Everything you do, Sandulf.’
Sandulf’s jaw jutted forward. ‘Everything I do what?’
Ceanna braced herself for a fight between the brothers.
Danr paused and then smiled. ‘Everything you do is different from how I’d do it. I can walk now.’
Sandulf clapped him on the back. ‘Good. Go.’
Ceanna shook her head. ‘Are all your brothers like this?’
‘Brandt is far worse. Always gave me grief. He wanted things done precisely his way. He was very like our father in that respect.’
‘Still is,’ Danr said.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Is it any wonder you took the first opportunity to escape?’
‘That’s one way of thinking about it.’ Sandulf leant forward and brushed a kiss against the corner of her mouth. The touch sent a pulse thrumming through her. ‘Take my battered hulk of a brother to safety. Let me handle the rest. I can do the ropes on my own.’
Ceanna knew there was much she wanted to say to him, but now was not the time. It amazed her that she had ever stopped believing in heroes when the man in front of her was doing a very good imitation of one.
‘I love you,’ she whispered before her nerve failed.
In the dim light his eyes burned. ‘Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.’
Ceanna reeled back as if he had struck her. ‘I understand.’
Did she love him? Did she really love him? Sandulf found it impossible to banish the stricken look on Ceanna’s face from his mind. He wasn’t worthy of her love, not yet, maybe not ever. His brothers clearly didn’t think so. But he was going to try.
Sandulf’s arms ached from where he’d tied them on the post. The ropes were loose enough for him to move when he had to, but he needed the element of surprise to work in his favour. He kept his face against the post and contented himself with running through all he had to do and how he would keep Ceanna from doing anything rash.
By Ceanna’s reckoning, Feradach and his brother would make their move about noon, when everyone was gathered and the judgement would begin. However, they arrived when the rose hue of dawn had barely lit up the square and all remained quiet. Urist, a well-dressed woman and the two brothers—one in the costume of a guard and the other dressed as monk—entered. Sandulf glimpsed them out of the corner of his eye. Despite the temptation, he kept his eyes trained on a knot in the wood and went over the plan he’d agreed with Ceanna. To take all of them, he needed his sword, the sword which Ceanna would bring with her. His dagger would only work against one assailant. Which brother would give him the best chance of success?
‘It needs to be done carefully,’ the well-dressed woman said. He assumed it was Mhairi, Ceanna’s stepmother. There was a faint nasal twang to her words. Her shoes rang out against the cobbles, stopping a little way from where he was tied. ‘We want justice done. You can recognise the culprit, can’t you, Urist ab Urist? When the time comes?’
Urist gave a loud belch. ‘His features are emblazoned on my mind, my Lady Mhairi. I will not make that sort of mistake. I will do you proud. This man murdered your stepdaughter. He made such a mess of her that it weren’t right for you or her father to see her corpse. Right vicious he was. Captain Feradach agreed with me.’
Urist peered at Sandulf. His jaw dropped. Sandulf mouthed Ceanna is here and Urist took a step backwards.
‘For the sake of Lady Ceanna I will identify the culprit,’ Urist said. ‘I promise. I won’t let her down. I will proclaim the truth at the judgement. Now let me go. I need more ale. I don’t need to see any more.’
‘He won’t have gone far,’ Lady Mhairi said after the footsteps died away. ‘Your guards can fetch him from the nearest ale house when the case will be tried.’
‘It would be better if the witness was not drunk,’ a man said. ‘Can we sober him up in time?’
‘Don’t worry. It will all work out. You will see—the shock of the trial combined with the funeral will kill the old fool.’
‘You shouldn’t have come here, Lugh. You should have stayed to ensure your job was done,’ Feradach said.
‘You sent word about a Northman asking the way to Nrurim. My angel from Glannoventa might be in danger.’
‘You should never have accepted that commission from Glannoventa. What did you gain from it? Nothing.’
‘I met my angel, a sweeter and kinder woman you could not ask for.’
‘And nearly blew everything because this Annis of yours had the eyes of an angel and must not get blood on her hands. Dealings in the kingdom of the Northmen to bring fabulous wealth, Lugh? You killed what? Two women? A
