Page 107 of Viking in Love

Eirik turned to Caedmon with mock dismay on his face. “Is this true?”

Caedmon shrugged. “I did not know they found a body.”

Dunstan’s face flushed with chagrin. “We do not need a body to know there has been foul play.”

“Are you saying that this whole flummery is being played over a murder that might not have taken place?” Eirik’s face was livid with outrage.

“Call in the women. Let us get to the bottom of this vile situation.” Edgar was probably bored by now. “Know this, Caedmon, any persons who helped Lady Havenshire escape are considered accomplices and will be judged and punished accordingly, and that includes you and the sisters.”

“Escape? How can someone escape when they have never been charged?” Eirik glowered at the other Witan members. “This is an exercise in stupidity, if you ask me.”

Caedmon stood and snarled at the king. “Accomplice? The injustice of your insult cuts deep. Do not threaten me, Your Highness, when I have done naught but give you good service over the years.”

Now it was Edgar’s turn to flush with embarrassment. Backtracking, he said, “My apologies, Caedmon. I do value your service. Understand our dilemma, though. A valued nobleman and close friend is missing, and the only clues to his whereabouts lie with the women under your protection.”

“Get the women, and let us be done with it,” Dunstan ordered.

And then the terrible trouble just got more terrible…

The longer they waited, the more nervous they got.

Breanne and her sisters had been sitting at the far end of the great hall, closest to the solar, for more than two hours, waiting their turn. The only thing that gave them hope was the arrival of Lord Ravenshire and his wife.

Lady Ravenshire, who asked to be called Eadyth, was a fascinating woman, and beautiful. Even though she must have been close to fifty, her naturally silvered hair and clear skin belied her years. In fact, she had once been known as the Silver Jewel of Northumbria because of her beauty. Right now, she was in deep conversation with Drifa and Ingrith about her beekeeping operation. She had already promised Breanne help in setting up her woodworking stall in Jorvik when she was ready.

Rashid sat with them, but he had been advised to remain quiet or stay as far away as possible from Dunstan, who hated Arabs almost as much as he hated women. Never mind that Rashid was a far-famed healer and comrade of some well-placed men. “Even the camel knows not to stand in a place of danger and trust in miracles.”

“What does that mean?” Breanne asked on a deep sigh.

“It means that Allah helps those who help themselves. You and your sisters have done well.” Rashid patted her hand. “Making yourselves scarce and unattractive. Huddling behind the shield of strong men. Speaking up when all else fails. You are fighters, all of you, and that is good in the eyes of Allah.”

“There is fighting, and then there is fighting. King Edgar does not play by the rules. He is a vile man,” Breanne answered.

Rashid shrugged. “An ass is an ass even if laden with gold.”

Hearing Rashid’s words of wisdom, Eadyth smiled, then took note of Breanne’s nervousness as her fingers kept going to her wart to make sure it was still in place. The kind lady said, “Do not fret over your disguises. Did I tell you how I fooled Lord Ravenshire into believing I was an old crone when we were first married? For months and months, by ashing my face, cackling, and using the transparent beekeeping net material, my husband never suspected. ’Tis my belief that men see what they anticipate seeing, not the real thing.”

“In other words, men are clueless?” Breanne said.

“Definitely,” Eadyth replied.

“I heard that,” Eirik said, coming up to them. He leaned down and kissed his wife on the cheek before telling them, “Time for you to go in.”

They all stood and Eirik turned away from his wife. “Oh, my God!” he said, taking one look, then almost jumping back in shock. It was the first he had seen them since his arrival when he had gone directly to the solar. Now, eyes wide with amazement, he burst out in laughter.

Breanne’s hair was braided and arranged on top of her head to expose more skin covered with the “contagious” spots. Caedmon had helped her apply her wart earlier in the kitchen, an exercise that involved lots of touching, very little of it near her nose.

Ingrith was in her fat costume and had even put wads of fleece inside her mouth to give herself puffy cheeks, which meant that she slurred when she talked, as if she was drukkin. Vana was all croned up with blackened teeth, bent posture, and a cane. And, of course, Sybil had her hunchback.

They all hurried toward the solar and what they hoped would not be their doom. Caedmon and Geoff stood outside in the hall, ready to escort them inside. The serious expressions on their faces would be enough to scare them witless, if they were not already at that point.

The women, along with Caedmon and Geoffrey, sat on benches facing the long table where Eirik had rejoined the other Witan members.

King Edgar’s beady eyes examined the women before he curled his upper lip with distaste. “Let us get on with it. I am hungry.”

Every person in the room knew what his appetite was for, even Dunstan, who whispered some admonishment in his ear. King Edgar just shrugged. He would do as he willed, then go build a church or two in penance.

Lord Orm, the magistrate, started the inquiry. “Where is Lady Havenshire?”