Surrender My Love (35 page)

“She would not leave Wyndhurst alone,” Turgeis insisted. “She is not that foolish.”

“If she were…upset…she might not have been thinking of caution,” Kristen replied hesitantly.

“For what reason would she be upset?” Turgeis demanded, a growl entering his tone.

“She is
always
upset,” Selig answered before Kristen could, relieved now that Erika’s whereabouts had been guessed at. “Why would today be any different?” Then he turned to Royce. “Would you send someone to make sure she has gone home? I will not be able to concentrate on my fight with Durwyn unless I know she is safe.”

“Do you want her returned here?”

“If she left early, she may not even know that I fight. She can be told, but the decision will be hers if she wants to return for it. I would not force her to watch if she has no interest—”

“God’s mercy, spare us such self-pity,” Royce cut in, laughing now. “You know very well your wife would want to be here.”

Kristen’s conscience would not let her remain quiet any longer. She opened her mouth to confess why Erika had likely left, and her part in it, but she didn’t get the chance. One of the servants was shouting for Royce as he raced toward them, and when he arrived, out of breath, terrified, what he had to say made her confession irrelevant—for the moment.

Only Selig could not understand what Royce was told, and demanded, “What?” when he
saw so many grave faces turning in his direction.

Royce answered, “The message he was given is for you, and you will not like it.”

“Tell me.”

“‘You will claim you are mistaken in your accusations against Lord Durwyn, or you will never see your wife again. And the king is not to know of this, or you will never see your wife again.’”

Selig lifted the servant up by one hand. “Who gave you that message?”

Royce had to repeat the question in Saxon, and after listening to the man’s frightened response, he told Selig, “Put him down, man. He did not see who it was. He was approached from behind, told exactly what to tell you, then pushed into the crowd. When he turned, there were too many men about to know which one had spoken to him.”

“But I know who
sent
the message,” Selig said and started across the hall with deadly purpose.

Royce went after him and grabbed his arm, but was thrust aside. Durwyn saw him coming and leapt to his feet, but to no purpose. Selig was on him, his hands closing around his throat. It took five men to pull him off, and he let go of Durwyn only long enough to throw off those restraining him, which he did right quickly.

It took his father to step in front of him and push him back when he went for Durwyn a second time. “Are you mad?” Garrick demanded.
“What has happened that you cannot wait to end him properly?”

“He has taken Erika,” Selig replied furiously. “He threatens her life if I do not retract the challenge and claim I was mistaken in accusing him.”

“But he has not left this hall,” Garrick pointed out.

“He does not have to. He has men aplenty with him to do the deed.”

At that moment Durwyn rallied sufficiently to cry, “What does the heathen accuse me of now?”

Selig didn’t understand him, but Garrick did and rounded on the man. “You should have taken your chance at fighting my son, because you prove your guilt by taking his wife to tie his hands. And if he withdraws his challenge because of it, be apprised that you now have one from me.”

Durwyn said nothing at first, was staring in horror at King Alfred, who was near enough to have heard every word. Then he yelled, “’Tis a lie! All of it! If someone has taken the Viking’s wife, ’twas not done by my order!”

At that point Royce pulled Selig away and pushed him toward the front of the hall. “You will get nothing out of him,” he hissed. “The bastard will die swearing innocence. But you were a fool to attack him, proving his guilt. You should have closed the gates first. Whoever works with him has now been given the opportunity to leave—and to carry out his threat.”

Selig was running toward the door before Royce had finished speaking, though Royce kept up with him. They both stopped, however, upon reaching the bailey and seeing the gates already closed and Turgeis standing in front of them, his own horse and Selig’s at the ready.

“At least someone was thinking with his head instead of his heart,” Royce said wryly. “Go ahead. It will take me a few minutes to send out my men in a wide enough sphere that a call can go out and be heard as soon as she is found—and to make sure only my people leave.”

There was no longer a need for such tearing haste, now that Durwyn’s henchmen were contained within the walls, except to get Erika freed the sooner. And that was all the reason Selig needed to continue with all speed.

He did spare a moment to say, “Thank you,” to Turgeis when he reached him.

The giant merely said, “You were too fraught with emotion to think of it. Did the lord tell you where she is?”

“Nay,” Selig replied bitterly. “But he has men camped somewhere near here. That much I already knew. Royce is gathering his men now to spread wide the search. Whoever finds the camp first will call out.”

“They can call out, but I will not,” Turgeis said as they both mounted. “I will see to the matter myself.”

“Then I ride with you.”

Chapter 46

T
HE CAMP WAS
easily seen from a distance. No effort had been made to conceal it, though a woods was right there and could have been used. It was even in the first logical place to look, west of Wyndhurst, the direction from which the king’s party had come.

Turgeis spotted it first and galloped in that direction. Selig, so anxious to have Erika rescued and safe again, overtook him. Unfortunately, the way they both charged into the camp gave every indication of attack, and not one man scattered or tried to run, but drew his weapon instead. There were twenty against two. Durwyn’s men considered the odds too high in their favor to lose, despite the size of the Vikings. So they attacked en masse.

For Selig and Turgeis, that meant every blow they struck had to be a killing blow, with none wasted, which had not been anticipated, but was the only way to keep from being felled themselves. Selig would not have killed them all, yet it looked like they might have to. He tried to locate Erika in the camp, but there was no opportunity to see beyond the next sword
thrust. Yet until they were assured she was there and not taken elsewhere, someone had to be alive to answer questions when this was done, but the bodies were already piling up.

He shouted to Turgeis, who had an equal number of men coming at him from all sides. “Leave at least one alive to tell us where she has been taken.”

“You see to it,” Turgeis called back. “My Blooddrinker does not leave wounds that might heal.”

Not long after that, Selig cut down two of the last three men attacking him with a single lucky stroke. The third man, realizing that he now stood alone, started backing up, terror in his eyes.

“Tell me where the woman is and you can go free,” Selig promised him.

The fellow didn’t understand a word he said, turned to flee, but one of his downed comrades tripped him up and he fell face-forward. Selig moved in swiftly to apprehend him, prepared to beat the information out of him if necessary, but the man didn’t get up. When Selig turned him over, there was a spiked mace embedded in his forehead. He would be answering no questions.

Selig looked immediately toward Turgeis, but the giant had already finished off his share of the attackers and was wiping his great ax on one of the dead bodies lying next to him. Selig then quickly scanned the area, his heart starting to beat harder than the battle had caused it to, but Erika wasn’t there. No one else was
there. There was not even a cart she might be hidden in.

He groaned, and started checking bodies for signs of life, yelling at Turgeis to do the same. Minutes later he gave up hope and dropped to his knees, his belly gripped with fear and rage. Too much hate, too much lust, now too much fear. Everything he felt for this woman was in the extreme, and now he knew why; now, when it might be too late.

“What did they do with you?” he shouted at the sky.

Erika heard him. She had been screaming already, repeatedly. Her efforts to twist out of the ropes had dislodged dirt on her head and shoulders. Bugs now crawled on her, what kind she didn’t know, but her throat was raw because of them. Yet she yelled again, yelled with what strength she had left. Still, whatever sound got past her gag would not penetrate the wooden plank and grass above her head. Selig was there, he had come for her, and yet he couldn’t hear her.

“Come,” Turgeis said, helping Selig to his feet. “There is no more to do here.”

“Come where?” Selig snarled bitterly. “I was so certain she would be here. Now where do we look?”

“Lord Durwyn will tell you naught, but he was not alone at Wyndhurst. We still have his messenger to find, and I will rip the answers from his throat if I have to.”

They rode back to Wyndhurst with no less speed than before. Royce was encountered on
the way, and Selig informed him, “We found the camp, but she was not there, so leave your men to still search for the while.”

“And where do you go?”

“I fear looking for her will produce no results. We will have to be told where she was taken.”

“Durwyn will not do it,” Royce insisted. “His only hope is to protest his innocence to the bitter end.”

“But his messenger will know,” Selig said. “And his messenger is still at Wyndhurst. Turgeis plans to rip the answers out of him.”

“Do you set Turgeis on him, the man will die of fright,” Royce predicted, and not entirely in jest.

Selig repeated that for Turgeis’s benefit. The giant merely grunted. Selig’s expression hardened, though, when he added for Royce, “I
will
have answers, one way or another. And I would ask that you stay near me, to speak for me. I would already know where Erika is if Durwyn’s last man had understood me when I promised him freedom. Instead he fled and died anyway, but by accident.”

When they reached Wyndhurst and entered the bailey, they found it twice as crowded as it had been that morning. Near the hall, Durwyn stood with two guards on either side of him. As Selig rode that way, the guards both reached for their swords in warning.

“’Twould seem Alfred is now convinced of his guilt. You must let the king have him, Selig,” Royce said.

“He can have him as long as I can find my answer elsewhere. What goes here?”

Since Royce had no idea, he shouted for his wife. She was not far away and came running. “Did you find her?” she asked first.

“Nay, but what is going on?”

Kristen quickly explained. “If Durwyn had men here, Alfred wants them as well, yet will they not give themselves up. So everyone is to account for his own people, and those accounted for, separated from the rest. Whoever is left unclaimed had best have good reason for being in the king’s party, and be able to prove it.”

“How much longer will this take?”

“It has only just begun. Those accounted for are being moved over there.” She pointed to the far side of the bailey. “I have been sending our own people over, one by one. Now you are here, you can help.”

“That may not be necessary,” Royce said as he stared into the crowd, then suddenly nudged Selig. “There, the man in the leather jerkin. If I am not mistaken, he was with Lord Durwyn when he stopped here last week. Give me a moment and I may be able to find the rest.”

Selig stared at the man; then his eyes widened. “That one wears my sword!”

“Proof positive.” They started toward the man. “Do you interrogate him, or cut him up some first?”

“You can offer him his life,” Selig replied. “If he gives me back Erika, he need not bleed
at all. He can even keep my sword.”

Royce grinned. He just couldn’t help it after a telling remark like that. “When did you start loving her?”

“Odin only knows.” Selig sighed.

Ogden was already in a state of terror, with guards pushing him closer and closer to the line of separation. The king was there to identify his personal household and his lords and ladies. And those lords and ladies had to identify their own servants and retainers. Anyone unclaimed was in dire trouble, and one luckless thief had already been taken away by the king’s guards.

His fear kept him from thinking clearly and coming up with a logical reason for being there, one that could be verified. That was the rub, and that damned Lady Kristen had suggested that proof be required, so that a good liar couldn’t talk his way out of this.

And then he saw that the Viking was back with Lord Royce, and his terror turned to panic when he saw them staring directly at him, and then starting toward him. The end, then. He was going to die—nay, he would finish what had begun last month first. If he had done his job properly the first time, this wouldn’t be happening. The Viking should have died with the others. He would see to it now.

Ogden waited until Selig was almost upon him before he drew his sword and attacked—with
his
sword. The jest was on the Viking, that he would be killed with his own sword. But the man dodged Ogden’s first swipe and
drew his own blade. Ogden swung again and again, but met only the steel of the other blade each time.

“Desist, man,” Lord Royce shouted at him. “Tell him where his wife is and he will let you go.”

Ogden did not pause in his attack, though he shouted back, “You lie. If he does not kill me, the king will have it done. Think you I would aid a damn Dane when I am to die anyway? You will never find her, yet she is right beneath your nose.” And he laughed—just before Selig’s sword hilt slammed against his head.

He collapsed, unconscious. Royce retrieved his sword and handed it to Selig.

“That was your wisest move,” he said. “For he was determined to let you kill him—and without telling you where Erika is. We will question him further when he comes around, yet do I doubt we will get any more out of him.”

“Any more?” Kristen questioned as she and Turgeis joined them.

“He said we will never find her, yet she is right beneath our nose. There is a clue in that, if we can but discern it.”