He lifted an eyebrow, pleased by the thought that she didn’t want him to leave. ‘Trying to keep me here?’
‘It’s not that.’ She tilted her chin up. ‘I just have a few more jobs for you to do first. You promised to repay me for all my help, remember?’
‘Ah, so I did. All right, one more day. Then I can do a thorough search of that cave. If there’s anything else to drink, I’ll find it.’
‘Fine.’ A faintly guilty expression crossed her face for a moment before her jaw dropped. ‘Look!’
‘What is it?’ He twisted around as she pointed behind him.
‘Red! Over there!’
‘Pink, too. Well, I’ve never seen that before.’
‘Neither have I. It’s spectacular.’
He turned to look down at her again. ‘How could anyone prefer a hall? What kind of hall could provide all of this? It’s perfect.’
‘You’re not even looking now.’
‘I’m looking.’ He smiled. ‘Trust me, Sissa, I’m looking.’
* * *
Sissa rose silently at dawn. Her intention had been to persuade Danr by giving him the mead and letting it befuddle his senses enough that he would agree to her plan, but since that hadn’t happened, she’d decided it was time to resort to more underhand methods.
Fortunately, the ale had had other useful effects. He was still slumbering peacefully beside the fire, oblivious to the world as she wrapped a fur cloak around her shoulders and crouched down beside him, reaching for the leather pouch he always wore around his neck. Gently, she lifted it up, taking care not to pull as she sliced a knife through the cord and then drew it away.
Stars! She breathed a sigh of relief and peeked inside, making sure the three pendants were still nestled there before setting off, Tove at her heels. She knew the way to the village even in darkness, making her way swiftly through the trees as the sun rose slowly over the sky. She needed to hurry and get there before Danr woke up, guessed where she’d gone and followed her, though with any luck he’d assume that she was bathing and wouldn’t notice the loss of the pouch until much later.
She felt a twinge of guilt about taking something so precious to him, not to mention going behind his back, but she had confidence in her plan and his sudden decision to confront Hilda sooner rather than later had decided her. Her plan was the safest option—certainly better than him going to confront Hilda and ending up fighting Joarr if he lost his temper again—and it was her decision if she wanted to go through with it, not his. Admittedly, it was his business, but hadn’t he foisted himself on to her life? She could do the same thing if she wanted. She wasn’t sure whether the second chance he spoke about was possible, but she knew with every fibre of her being that she didn’t want him to get hurt. Which meant that she had to act before he did.
She stopped on the edge of the wood and put her hand on Tove’s head as a signal for her to stay. She’d never been inside the village before, but somehow she doubted the inhabitants would react well to the sight of a wolf. She didn’t know how they’d react to her either, but there was only one way to find out... She reached into the leather pouch for the pendants, curled her fingers around them and then walked up to the gates on her own. They were still closed, but, judging by the incredulous expression on the face of the guard on top of the wooden palisade, her arrival had been noticed.
She tapped her foot impatiently as he shouted something over his shoulder and then disappeared for a few seconds. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the large gates creaked open and he reappeared with another guard, both of them clutching spears and wearing part-threatening, part-nervous expressions.
She pursed her lips with grim humour. She supposed she couldn’t blame them. Her appearance seemed to alarm the villagers at the best of times, but a dawn arrival at their gates was even eerier than usual. On the other hand, it could be useful. She wanted an atmosphere of tension. Now she just had to hope that Hilda was already awake.
She lifted her chin and walked between the middle of the two guards, aware of their spears following behind as she made her way through the village and towards the great longhouse in the centre. This was where Knut, their leader, lived along with his wife, Alva, whose fever after the birth of their last child she’d successfully treated the previous summer. Hopefully Knut would still be grateful to her for that. At least enough not to chase her away, as the guards at her heels—there appeared to be at least half a dozen of them now—seemed to wish to do.
At last she reached the longhouse and stopped. There was already a sound of commotion inside, of raised voices and benches being pushed back, then Knut himself appeared, his red hair unkempt as if he’d just been roused from his bed, along with Alva, Joarr and another woman she’d never seen close up, a woman with dark braided hair and a certain look of hardness around her eyes.
This, Sissa assumed, was Hilda, the stepmother who’d made Danr feel unwelcome for most of his life. She’d thought about asking him for a more detailed physical description the evening before, but then changed her mind in case it aroused his suspicions. The woman in front of her, however, appeared to be around the right age with a few threads of grey streaking her hair and clothes fine enough to suggest that she was, or had once been, a great lady. So far, so good...
‘Lady.’ Knut took a few steps towards her and bowed his head. ‘You’re welcome here.’
She made no move to acknowledge him, narrowing her eyes on Hilda instead. By the way Joarr moved to try to block her view, she knew she had the right person. Even better... Slowly, she lifted a hand and pointed towards her.
‘What is this?’ Joarr took a threatening step forward, but Knut turned his head sharply.
‘Keep back!’
‘Why is she pointing?’ It was Hilda who spoke this time, her voice cracking slightly as Sissa crooked a finger and beckoned for her to come closer. ‘What does she want with me?’
‘Don’t move.’ Joarr put a hand on her arm.
‘Let her go.’ Knut spoke in an undertone. ‘Hilda will be safe.’
‘No. I don’t like it.’