The Silken Cord (9 page)

She snorted. “You built the fortress. Do you
really need to ask why? My father’s army is no match against the
strength of Cynan. We don’t have horses, weapons and armor like
your knights wear. The only way to regain Dafydd is to sneak inside
and steal him back.”

“No doubt Carlinham also wants you for
himself.”

How intuitive. Her people were nostalgic and
loyal, but Dafydd was only a child. The Welsh would follow Ariana
until the boy became a man and could lead them.

“I will belong to no man.”

Wulfgar’s mouth quirked up on one side.
“Your men believe you now belong to me. We are betrothed.”

The heat of a blush stained her cheeks. “I
will never be yours, now. Your men don’t know who I am.”

“They’ll learn soon enough.”

“You will tell them?”

“They aren’t stupid louts and will figure it
out as soon as we explain our mission.”

She was crestfallen. What he said was true.
Even now, she could see the doubt in their eyes. The anger.

“Will you help me, or will you die?” she
demanded.

Standing on a barren island of the Hebrides,
wearing nothing more than a slave collar and the tattered remnants
of his clothing, Wulfgar raised his arm and gave her the courtly
bow of a Norman knight. “I’ll help you, of course.”

Praise the Lord. She breathed with
relief.

“Upon one condition.”

She froze.

“I will help you in return for the use of
your warriors to help me regain Cynan.”

She pursed her lips. “Surely you don’t
believe King William will restore your holdings to you.”

Blowing out a breath, he met her eyes. “I
dare say he will, once I’m proven to be no traitor.”

“Please tell me how you plan to prove such a
thing, slave?”

A thoughtful frown pulled at his brows. “I
don’t know, but Cynan will be returned to me.”

The fool. Did he really think his king would
allow this?

Aye, he did. His harsh demeanor showed his
determination. She could almost believe he was innocent. That he
had been accused falsely and merely needed to find the proof.

No! She must harden herself to this man.
Lifting her head, she thought it would be easy enough to agree to
his proposition. Once inside the castle, they could take the guards
unaware and open the castle gates to admit Wulfgar’s knights and
her father’s men. Wulfgar would be given his freedom and regain
Cynan and they’d go their separate ways. If Wulfgar wished to prove
his innocence to William and take back his holdings, that was his
affair. It had nothing to do with her. She only needed Dafydd and
then she would be done with Wulfgar and his band of rabble
warriors.

“I agree to what you ask. My men will fight
to help you take Cynan,” she said.

He sighed with disbelief, or resolution.
Ariana wasn’t certain which. “Take heed,
ma cherie
. Do not
play me false. If you make this pact, I promise it will take more
than your men to protect you should you decide not to keep your
word.”

Ariana shivered. Her common sense warned her
not to dally with this man. He’d earned his reputation as a fierce
warrior. Cunning in war and in the ways of William’s Court. He’d
proven himself enough times to be richly rewarded by his king.
Traitor or not, he was shrewd. He would tolerate no deception.

“You’ll have the use of my men to retake
Cynan.” And she meant it. She would keep her word. God expected
nothing less.

He studied her and she saw suspicion in his
eyes, but he’d have to trust her just as she must trust him.

“Swear it.” He spoke softly but it could
have been a shout.

“I won’t swear, but I’ll give you my word,”
she whispered.

“Done.” He smiled and lifted an arm toward
their men. “I await your pleasure.”

Turning toward the beach, he seemed more
relaxed now he had her promise. “Come. The tide is right for an
easy departure.”

He stood back to let her pass. She walked to
where their men anxiously awaited them. Neither Welsh nor Norman
had put away their weapons. They stared at Ariana and Wulfgar with
expectation.

“I’ve agreed to help Princess Ariana,”
Wulfgar announced in a loud voice. “We will join with the Welsh to
enter Cynan Castle and take her brother from Edwin of Carlinham,
who holds the boy hostage there.”

The Normans looked surprised, their eyes
wide. Ariana heard a sharp intake of breath as dawning covered
their faces. They stared at her, exchanging questioning glances
amongst themselves.

The Normans were not stupid. They knew
exactly who she was and what her presence meant to Wulfgar.

“Ariana, Princess of Powys.” Gaston reached
to finger the bandage tied around his shoulder where Ariana had
stabbed him during their battle at sea.

Was he the type of man to hold a grudge? She
made a mental note to stay away from him.

Jenkin watched Ariana with guarded
skepticism, but he held his tongue. Raulf was not so careful. His
heavy gaze rested on her. “And what does she offer you in return?
You can’t trust the Welsh, Lord Wulfgar.”

Ariana’s spine stiffened at the slur.

“He’s no lord, but only a slave,” Cwrig
snarled. “He’s not good enough to lick the mud from Princess
Ariana’s shoes. I’ll kill the first man that dares say he is.”

Cwrig clutched his sword in his hand, his
eyes savage as he faced the Normans. Ifor and Evan joined him.
Ariana realized their hatred ran deep. They would never unite,
unless they heard it from her lips.

“Be at ease,” she cautioned them all. “We’ll
join forces to free Prince Dafydd and gain control of Cynan. Then,
I’ll honor my promise to Wulfgar and he will be freed.”

She trembled with unease. What if something
went wrong and they didn’t succeed? She mustn’t think of that. She
must have faith and be positive of the outcome.

Jenkin walked to Ariana and handed her the
dagger she thought she’d lost. With a joyous cry, she hugged
Jenkin. “I thought it was gone for good.”

“You dropped it on the ship before you were
washed overboard.”

“Thank you for returning it to me.” She
placed it in her girdle, the twin blades and jewels gleaming in the
afternoon sun.

“Once we’re inside Cynan, the Norman will
have his freedom,” Jenkin told them all. “And we’ll do what we can
to drive Edwin of Carlinham from our lands.”

“And what if King William hears you’ve
returned to Cynan?” Arnulf asked. “He’ll come for you, my
lord.”

“Aye,” Wulfgar responded grimly.

Raulf lifted his double-headed battle-ax.
“Then we’ll fight by your side and we will die.”

Wulfgar looked at Raulf, his eyes glittering
with emotion. His brows lowered in a troubled frown. Lifting one
hand, he clasped Raulf’s shoulder with fondness. Though his voice
sounded soft and beseeching, it also bore a stern edge. Ariana
could not deny Wulfgar’s conviction. “I would kill Carlinham if I
could, but I’m no traitor to our king, Raulf. Your allegiance will
first be to King William, second to me. If ever you must choose
between us, you will die for William before you die for me. If he
comes to take Cynan, we will open the gates and yield to him. Never
forget your oath to our king. Never.”

All was quiet as the other men stared at
Wulfgar. Did he mean what he said or was it just an act? He spoke
with such conviction. He insisted he was innocent of treason, but
Ariana had her doubts.

Finally, Raulf nodded. “I would never yield
Cynan to any man but you, but it will be as you say.”

Wulfgar smiled before he gently buffeted
Raulf’s chin with his fist and walked away. Raulf stared after him,
silent and thoughtful. The other men didn’t speak and Ariana
hardened her heart. Without another word, she gathered her cloak
about her and headed for the ship.

The Normans followed, their faces glowing
with delight.

“We have only to complete our mission and
Lord Wulfgar will be freed,” crowed Gaston.

“Yes, soon now,” Raulf agreed.

The Welshmen were silent, their mouths
pursed tight, their faces grim. Ariana just hoped they could work
together to take Cynan without fighting amongst themselves.

Ariana couldn’t suppress a smile of relief
as they sailed from the Irish Sea into Cardigan Bay. The sun rose
high and beat down upon them, warm enough that she shed her cloak
and rolled up the ragged sleeves of her dress. They had eaten and
she placed the remnants of dried meat and bread into leather
packs.

Home!

A feeling of joy swept her as she caught the
familiar scent of land. She could hardly wait to tell Aunt Frida
all that had happened. Perhaps there had been news of Dafydd. She
prayed Edwin of Carlinham waited for the ransom. He could always
change his mind and kill her brother.

Dread lodged in her heart, but she couldn’t
think about that now.

Looking up, she found Wulfgar watching her
intently, his brows quirked in a puzzled frown. He nodded once and
looked back out to sea.

He must be worried. If her men were
successful in helping take Cynan, he would then need to prove his
innocence to his king.

She admitted only to herself that she didn’t
want him to stay in England. She thought about inviting him to live
with her people in Wales, but doubted he’d give up his plans for
revenge.

Warmth filled her, a softening of her heart
that brought her near tears. In the short time she had known him,
he had changed her somehow. Against her desire not to, she cared
about him and wished she could help him. He would never agree to
stay in Wales. Not without proving his innocence first. A man such
as Wulfgar would never be able to live with dishonor. Yet, if he
continued with his plan, he would most likely be killed. For that
reason alone, he had won her respect.

Lifting her head, she allowed the breeze to
cool her heated cheeks. The men had given up some of their own
clothing for Wulfgar, a coarse woolen tunic, braies, and leather
shoes. Arnulf offered him a lethal knife, much to the argument of
Ifor and Cwrig.

“A slave must not have weapons,” Ifor had
said.

As if Wulfgar needed any. From what Ariana
had observed, he was skilled and resourceful enough that he seemed
to do well even without a sword.

“Where we go, there is danger,” the Norman
Cedric exclaimed. “He must be able to defend himself and fight for
our cause. We’ll need every able man to fight.”

“Your cause? You’re nothing but outlaws.
Prince Dafydd’s life is in danger and we must save him. That is our
only cause.”

The men’s jaws locked, their eyes spitting
fire. Ariana sighed, wishing they could get along for even one day.
She prayed she wouldn’t have to thrust herself between them to stop
another fight.

Jenkin shrugged as he directed the tiller of
Wulfgar’s ship. “Let him keep the knife. He may need it before we
finish our journey. He’ll fare better with us than his own people.
Though he’s a slave, he may live with us. If he returns to England,
he’ll be put to death. He knows this very well.”

It was a good point. If only Wulfgar would
heed Jenkin’s wisdom. Ariana took a step forward to ask Wulfgar to
stay in Wales, but didn’t get the chance.

“I would face any danger to regain my honor.
My place is at Cynan, and I’ll regain my holdings.” Wulfgar’s
stormy glare centered on Jenkin, as if he dared the Welshman to
challenge him.

“These bloody Normans will slit our throats
yet,” Cwrig grumbled as he stowed away his oar.

A hot gush of disappointment rose in
Ariana’s heart. Wulfgar wanted only his lands and titles, nothing
more. Certainly not a bedraggled princess of Wales.

They beached their ship in Aberystwyth
harbor. Jenkin jumped over the side into the slapping water.
Turning, he reached up for Ariana. She had no chance to respond
before Wulfgar swept her into his arms. Fearing she might fall into
the sea, she wrapped her arms about his neck as he stepped over the
side. Wading through the water, he carried her to shore. She stared
into his dark eyes. No words were spoken as he splashed through the
sea, but his look spoke volumes. He’d made his ownership plain to
all and the Welsh watched with narrowed eyes and grim mouths.

Ariana was conscious of the heavy cords of
muscle along Wulfgar’s throat and shoulders. She felt his hard arms
around her, filled with strength and warmth, and was reminded of
how he’d protected her on the island. It had been an almost idyllic
time and she wished they could forget their troubles and return.
But dark times called for action and she would never shirk her
duty.

Suddenly Ariana couldn’t stand his
nearness.

“Put me down,” she demanded.

A few more steps to dry land and Wulfgar did
as asked, placing her on her feet. Ariana glanced at Jenkin, who
had watched them with open fury. Normally, Jenkin was a calm man,
noted for his patience, wisdom, and loyalty. Right now, his face
looked white with rage.

“Jenkin,” she called in a sweet voice.

Looking her way, his tensed shoulders
relaxed as he nodded with respect. “Aye, princess?”

“You’ll direct the way and take us to our
people. We’ll find rest here. On the morrow, we’ll continue our
journey to Cynan.”

“As you wish.”

Ariana stood back while Jenkin passed
between her and Wulfgar to take the lead. In so many words, Ariana
had expressed her confidence in Jenkin. She couldn’t help pursing
her lips with disapproval as she turned to look at the Norman
slave. In the next moment, her mouth dropped open with surprise.
Wulfgar wore an amused expression, his mouth spread wide in a
smile. He didn’t appear the least bit upset by her dismissal.

He turned to follow after the other men.
Shifting her feet upon the pebbled beach, Ariana stared after him.
She fumed as she watched his broad back.