Page 133 of The Outlaw Viking

“He…was?” Rain asked slowly, her brow furrowing with confusion.

“Yea, after seeing what Steven had done to you, Athelstan finally believed that Selik had provocation for his vengeful acts. He levied a huge wergild on The Outlaw and exiled him for life from all of Britain. An armed guard will take him to Southampton on the morrow, where he will be put on a ship, never to return to this land again.”

Rain smiled and started to get up from the bed. “I must go to him at once.

“Nay, you are too weak yet.”

“Then send him to me. At once. I’ve got to see that he’s all right. And we’ve got to pack my belongings so I can go with him tomorrow.” Excited at the wonderful news, Rain began to list in her mind all the things she needed to do to prepare for a trip. Where would they go? she wondered. Could they send for Ubbi and Adam and Adela and the other orphans?

Elgiva shook her head sadly. “Rain, he refuses to see you.”

“But why?” Rain sank back down to the bed, frightened by the concern in Elgiva’s teary voice.

“You would not allow me or Athelstan to tell him why you were with Steven. So, he believes—”

“—that I was with Steven willingly. That I was his lover,” Rain finished for her.

“He says he hates you, Rain. I am sure, in time, when he is more in control of his senses, he will recognize his misthinking. But he has been in a rage since his release, drinking and cursing and—”

“Help me dress,” Rain said firmly, forcing herself to endure the pain of her battered body. “Whether you help me or not, I’m going to find Selik and talk to him.”

After many futile arguments, Elgiva helped her don one of her own garments—a soft white wool tunic over a blue chemise. She put the amber beads lovingly around her neck and the dragon brooch at her shoulder. Standing before the polished metal on Elgiva’s wall, Rain saw dark circles under her eyes, and the weight she’d lost showed in her hollowed cheeks, but otherwise, no one would suspect the massive bruising hidden under all her garments.

“Will you tell him the truth?” Elgiva asked as she helped her walk down the hall, carefully, like an aged cripple.

Rain shook her head. “No—at least, not now. Maybe someday, when we’ve both had a chance to heal, but Selik couldn’t handle it now. He’s suffered so much already. I just know he would revert to his former life of bloody vengeance.”

When they arrived at the door of Selik’s chamber, Rain heard some movement inside.

“Shall I come inside with you?” Elgiva asked with concern.

Rain shook her head. “No—but, Elgiva, thank you for all your help.” She hugged her friend warmly, then smiled expectantly.

Finally, she and Selik would have a life together.

Selik heard a knocking sound, but at first, he thought it was in his mead-sodden head. He tried to sit up several times, with no success.

He looked to his side and jolted. A nude woman lay beside him in the rumpled linens. He groaned. ’Twas Blanche.

He frowned, trying to remember. He had been drinking heavily the night before, but he knew for a fact that he had gone to his bed alone. What was the wench up to?

He rubbed his eyes wearily, suddenly remembering why he had drunk so much yestereve. The bastard king had released him yestermorn, with no explanation. He’d been ordered to pay an enormous fine, turn over his property in Northumbria, and leave Britain forever.

He did not care.

He had lost much, much more.

Rain! his tormented mind cried out, as it had for days. Rain…Rain…Rain…Rain…

How could she? he kept asking himself over and over. There were no answers, just the inexorable facts. She had been with his most hated enemy, Steven of Gravely.

Gravely was filth in his eyes, and now Rain was too. He would never, never, forgive her for her betrayal.

The pounding at the door continued. Selik forced himself up off the bed and staggered toward the door, uncaring of his nudity. No doubt Athelstan had sent another messenger to remind him of his departure on the morrow. It could not be too soon for him.

Ill-prepared for the sight of Rain standing before him in the doorway, he leaned against the door for support. Bloody hell! She looked like an angel standing there dressed in white, gazing at him through tear-filled golden eyes. Wearing his amber beads like a bloody badge of love. Damn her. He forced himself not to reach out for her, reminding himself that she was far from an angel. A dark angel, mayhap, for any goodness in her was surely wiped out by association with Satan’s own helper, Steven of Gravely.

“Selik!” she exclaimed on a hoarse whisper and held out both arms for his embrace.