Dangerous Talents (34 page)

Gris came close, poised to resume the attack, but Neven lifted two fingers and Gris remained silent.

“You may go,” Neven said to Cele.

Cele stood for a moment, almost strangling on her anger, then turned and stalked to the door. Neven’s voice stopped her with her fingers on the latch. “Lady Celia, a bit of advice, if you’ll take it. Know well who your friends are.”

She turned angry eyes on Neven. “I know, at least, that you are not among them.”

*

The door had barely closed behind Celia when Dahleven swept out of the tapestry covered alcove where he’d hidden with Ragni. “Was that necessary?” he demanded, his voice grating in an effort not to shout. Neven had wanted him to leave, but when he’d refused, his father had insisted he remain out of view. Keeping still had been a severe test of his will and loyalty.

Neven’s voice was stern. “Are you questioning my plans?”

“Since you haven’t yet seen fit to share them with me, yes, I am.”

“We both are,” Ragni added, his voice tight.

“You should know by now, both of you, that governing the Jarldom is seldom a case of following well-laid plans. More often it’s a matter of adapting to circumstances and taking calculated risks.” Neven glanced at Ragni before looking straight into Dahleven’s eyes. He didn’t use his Talent, but Dahleven felt the intensity of the contact. He didn’t flinch from it.

“What are you playing at?” Dahleven demanded. “What ‘calculated risks’ are you taking with Lady Celia?”

“You found the camp of Renegade Tewakwe and Outcasts, Dahl.
You
pointed out that someone has organized them, that their actions are coordinated. Yet we still don’t know who our enemy is, or what his goals are. At the very least he threatens disruption of trade, and possible war with the Tewakwe.”

It was true. Their caravans and borders had been attacked time and again, always from surprise, always with superior numbers. Somehow their enemy had information about their plans while they knew nothing of him, or who was acting on his behalf.

Dahleven wasn’t deterred, but his voice was a fraction calmer. “What has that got to do with Celia? What purpose did it serve to abuse her?”

Neven’s voice was cold. “In war, individuals must sometimes be sacrificed to the greater good. Lady Celia is the only new tool we have to lure our enemy into possibly, hopefully, revealing himself. If she hates me, she’ll be more receptive to another’s offer.”

Dahleven stiffened. He’d stood near the seat of power long enough to recognize the truth of his father’s words, but they chilled him nonetheless. He’d lost men in his command, friends, but always as a consequence of battle, and they each and all had understood the dangers they faced. This was different. “She has no part in this,” Dahleven argued.

“Hasn’t she?” Neven challenged. “How many have traveled the Bright Road in the last six hundred years? It’s no coincidence she’s here now. She has a purpose here, but whom does it serve? When it comes down to where steel meets skin, what do we truly know of her?”

“She is innocent,” Dahleven insisted.

Neven glanced at Ragni, who nodded. “Anger, frustration, no deception.” Bitterness edged Ragni’s voice and his face was tight. “She’s an innocent, just as I told you before.”

“Good. Let’s hope she stays that way. That innocence may be all that saves her.”

“From our enemies, or from you?” Dahleven growled, and stalked from the room.

*

“My lady! What happened?” Thora exclaimed as Jeger opened the door and Cele stalked into her room.

“I am sick to death of bullies! I used to work for one, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Neven. At least back home I could change jobs. Here, I’m stuck with the arrogant bastard.” Cele sat down on the window seat, then stood again to pace the room.

“He’s a good Kon, Lady Celia.”

Thora’s tone was a gentle reminder that Cele was in Neven’s house, talking to Neven’s servant. She softened her voice, but she wouldn’t lie about her feelings. “I’m sorry, Thora, but I can’t share your high opinion of your lord and master. He’s a bully, despite having Gris say the words for him. He all but accused me of being in league with the outlaws, tricking Dahleven into an ambush, and getting Sorn killed!”

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes.”

Thora was silent for a moment. “You’ll feel better after a warm bath. Then we’ll get you something to eat.” She poured another cup of mead for Cele. “Drink this, while I make sure there are clean towels for you.”

Thora was gone much longer than Cele expected, but she supposed the water had cooled and Thora was drawing another tub. It was after lunchtime when Thora returned, and Cele was beginning to feel hungry.

“Come, my lady.” Thora held out her hands. Cele obediently rose and let Thora undress her, then wrap her in the robe and lead her down the hall. When Thora opened the door to the bathing room, they were greeted by the sound of feminine voices, which quickly fell silent.

Three women sat in the larger tub, submerged to their shoulders. The scent of honey-suckle rose from the steaming water. The eldest of the women spoke, her brown eyes warm and welcoming. “Greetings, Lady Celia. Join us.”

Thora was already pulling the robe from her shoulders, so Cele stepped into the small pool. The water was just right; hot, but not scalding. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips as the water’s warmth eased her stiffness.

“That’s a nasty bruise you’ve got coming up on your shoulder, my lady. Did you get that this morning?” the youngest asked.

“You know about that already?” Cele asked, then glanced at Thora who stood with her back to the door. Thora just gave her a small smile.

“News travels fast in the castle. You defended yourself well, we hear,” the third woman said.

“Who is ‘we?’”

“Forgive us,” the oldest said. “Please, call me Alna. This is Osk,” she said, indicating the middle woman, adding, “and Saeun.” She inclined her head toward the youngest.

Cele nodded to the three and glanced again at Thora. This obviously wasn’t a chance meeting, but she’d play along for a while. The water felt too good to leave yet, anyway. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are all the women in Midgard so able to defend themselves?” Saeun asked.

Cele shook her head. “No. But it’s not uncommon.”

“Were you reviled for learning such things?” Osk asked.

Cele cocked her head, surprised and amused. “No. A lot of women take self-defense classes. Some guys think it’s sexy to go out with a strong woman.”
I wonder how Dahleven feels about it
.

Saeun was tentative. “Were you required to forswear marriage?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Were no restrictions at all laid on you for the acquisition of your skills?” Osk demanded.

“Just that I follow the directions of my instructor. To use my skills only for my own defense and the defense of others. What is this all about?”

“So you could teach us?” Saeun asked eagerly, leaning forward so the water lapped at her breasts.

Cele looked at the young woman. “Yes, I suppose so. As much as I know. I’m not that advanced.”

The conversation took an abrupt turn. “Do women own property in Midgard?”

“Yes, of course.” The light dawned. She was getting slow; the morning’s excitement must have dulled her wits. “We vote, we choose our own professions, and we marry whom we please, if we marry at all. Is that what you were wondering about?”

Alna nodded. “You understand us well, Lady Celia.” She looked at the others, who nodded. Alna lowered her voice. “We are members of the Daughters of Freya. We seek to end the limitations placed on us by our brothers and sons and fathers and husbands. Freya stands beside her brother Freyr, she doesn’t sit at his feet. So should we stand beside men. Do you find fault with this?”

Cele grinned.
Viking feminists
! “I think it’s wonderful.”

Alna smiled, revealing two missing teeth. At Cele’s glance she said, “My first husband had a temper, and my brothers depended on his good will for their living.”

“I’m sorry,” Cele said. “Wasn’t there anyone who could help?”

“She might have appealed to the Lord of the holding—but her husband
was
the Lord, and third cousin to the Jarl,” Osk said.

Thora spoke from the door. “Her husband wasn’t a lord in Kon Neven’s province. The Kon wouldn’t condone such behavior.”

“That’s not the point!” Osk said sharply. “It should not be accepted
at all
that a man can act as he will, unless there’s a more powerful
man
to stop him.”

“You need the power of the law to protect you,” Cele said.

“That may be,” Osk said, “but what power do laws have when lords may ignore them for their own gain? I know of women who have been sold into thralldom to cancel their husband’s debts, and that’s outside the law.”

“Thralldom? Do you mean slavery?” Celia’s voice rose in shock.

“Indentured service,” Osk replied. “But for some it might as well be slavery as their husband’s debts are so great.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Women must stand together if we are to find the strength to make men hear,” Alna said.

“We need a leader who stands apart, who isn’t afraid to speak and act.” Saeun leaned forward looking Cele in the eye meaningfully.

“Whoa. I was with you until that last bit. I’ll teach you self-defense, but I’m not the person you want as a leader. You need one of your own. I’d be seen as an outsider by the men, a troublemaker. Even some of the women would reject me, and reject you because of me. You need to define your own freedom. Your leader should be someone that everyone knows, that everyone respects. Not me.”

Alna nodded as though Cele had come down on her side of an earlier argument. “She’s right.”

Saeun and Osk looked rebellious.

“Besides, I won’t be here long enough to be of much help, if I can find a way home,” Cele added.

Alna looked at Cele closely. “Has anyone held out such hope to you?”

Cele sighed. “No,” she conceded. “The best answer I’ve gotten is ‘We’ll look into it.’ The worst is that there isn’t any way.”

Alna’s eyes were sad. “The skalds tell no tales of anyone returning to Midgard.”

“That could be so no one knows they have a choice.” Osk said, bitterly. “Our masters couldn’t control us so well if we had an escape.”

“That may be,” Alna said. Then she lowered her voice still further. “We have seers among us, Lady Celia, though the priests of Baldur and the Skalds’ Guild forbid it. I’ll ask them to throw the stones for you.”

“Seers? Is that a kind of Talent?”

“No. Even women are allowed to use their Talents. I speak of casting the runes. At present, the skalds alone are allowed to read the augury of the futhark. For a woman to do so is against the Law of Sanction, never mind the use of ritual magic.”

Cele wasn’t sure what Alna was promising, but thanked her anyway, adding, “If you can arrange a time and place, I’ll teach some women some defensive moves.” The water had cooled. Cele stood and Thora wrapped the warmed robe around her. “Good luck to you.”

Back in her room, Cele slipped into a long-sleeved, cream-colored dress and the green tunic. It was mid-afternoon and Cele’s stomach was reminding her that a lot had happened since she’d last eaten. Thora spoke to the guard in the hall, ordering a meal, then unpinned Cele’s braids. Having a maid help her dress still felt strange, but she loved having her hair brushed and braided for her. Her mother had done that when she was little.

Tendrils were still curling damply around Cele’s face when the guard knocked and announced Lord Dahleven. Thora dropped a brief curtsey as the Kon’s heir entered the room. He too had bathed, and no longer wore his bloodied clothing.

He peered at Cele closely. “You look well. Are you recovered from this morning?”

“From the fight, or from my meeting with Kon Neven?” Cele grimaced. “I’m sorry. He’s your father. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Not to you, anyway
. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit hungry. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

Dahleven smiled ruefully. “I’ve already—”

A knock on the door interrupted him. Thora opened it to a breathless messenger. “My apologies, Lord Dahleven. Lady Ingirid sends for you. Ari is missing.”

“Again?” Thora asked.

Dahleven rolled his eyes. “I assume you’ve looked in all the usual places?”

“Yes, my lord. We think he followed his brothers down into the tunnels.”

Dahleven’s attention sharpened. “How long has he been missing?”

“Masters Ljot and Solvin returned a candlemark ago. Several groups are searching already. Unfortunately, the Tracker Talents are all out following the backtrail of those men who attacked you.”

“Who’s Ari?” Celia asked.

“My nephew,” Dahleven said. “He’s five. He’s not the first boy to get lost in the tunnels, but he is one of the youngest. Ingirid is probably out of her mind with worry. He’s her baby. I’ve got to look for him.”

“Of course. Let’s go.” Cele moved briskly to the door.

“Wait,” Dahleven said. “You should rest. This could take a while. After this morning—”

“I’m a Finder, and a good one, or so Fender tells me. Let me help you Find Ari.”

Dahleven hesitated.

“Come on,” she urged. “The sooner we start, the sooner Ari will be back in Ingirid’s arms.”

“All right. But the tunnels are too cool for those clothes. Thora, a cloak.”

The servant hastily brought the black fur cloak. Dahleven raised his brows as he took the luxurious garment from her and draped it around Cele’s shoulders, then urged her out the door. In the hall, Cele started to turn toward the main staircase that she’d always used, but Dahleven stopped her.

“This way.” He led her in the opposite direction, to the bathing room. For an instant, Cele wondered if they’d be walking in on the Daughters of Freya, but the bath was empty. The humid air of the room made Cele’s cloak feel heavy and oppressive.
What are we doing in here
? She soon got an answer. Dahleven opened the doors of a wide, shallow closet stacked with shelves of towels and linens. He reached in and released a catch, then pushed on the center portion until it swung away, revealing a shaft with a ladder.