hand on her head, stroking her hair as she fell asleep. Ellan was never quite certain if it was an actual memory or something she had made up to comfort herself as a child.
What would her mother tell her to do? Unfortunately, she hadn’t known her well enough to say. What would Elswyth say? She had a sinking feeling that her sister would advise her to marry the man Father wanted her to marry. Ellan couldn’t shake the feeling that this man would be hardly better than Father in his opinions of the Danes. In her time serving Lady Gwendolyn, Ellan had grown close to her. She couldn’t imagine submitting to a marriage that would see her on the other side of a potential Saxon/Dane battle in Alvey. Father was wrong in his hatred.
Was Aevir right in that Father could be taken prisoner soon? Would that mean the betrothal wasn’t valid? Should she take Aevir up on his offer in case it was?
Heat swept through her at that thought. Deep down inside herself in a place she hardly knew existed, she hadn’t found Aevir’s proposition to be abhorrent. She wanted marriage and a family of her own...but she also wanted to know what it would be like to lie with him. To be protected by him. To belong to him.
Pulling the blanket up to hide her face from her wicked thoughts, she tried to drive the memory of his intense stare from her head. It didn’t work. Being alone made him much more vivid in her mind. The way he had towered over her outside the hall after Elswyth’s wedding, for instance. Had he been someone else she might have felt intimidated or even afraid, but because it was him she had felt protected, even cared for, though that sentiment was absurd. He wanted her in his bed, not his heart. She wasn’t a complete dolt when it came to men.
Why then did she feel this inexplicable draw to him and the promise of more lurking beneath the surface?
That thought, along with those of her uncertain future, left her unable to find a peaceful sleep. When she finally drifted off it was to unsettling dreams of both her father and Aevir.
* * *
It seemed that she had only just found sleep when strange sounds from below brought her awake. She lay in her bed for a moment, wondering if she had imagined them.
Nay, they were real. Several voices from the main room rose up to where she slept. They were urgent, but she was too groggy to untangle the meaning of the Norse words. Boots hurried across the floor, moving back and forth. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be morning yet.
Her eyes felt grainy as she rubbed them and sat up to untie the curtain. Danes were below, appearing to finish a quick meal of pottage and leftovers from the night before. The door to the outside opened, revealing a sliver of dark grey as a warrior hurried out. It was too early in the morning for this much activity.
Grabbing her blanket, she wrapped it around herself as she hurried to Elswyth’s room. When no one answered her knock, she pushed it open to find that the room was empty. Her heart sank as a heavy feeling overcame her. Something was dreadfully wrong. Perhaps Father had taken off with Elswyth. She could think of no other reason her sister wouldn’t be in her bed at this hour.
The need to know sent her hurrying to the chamber Lady Gwendolyn shared with her husband. The door was cracked, so she pushed it open.
‘Lady Gwendolyn?’
A serving girl sat just inside the room, bringing a finger to her lips for quiet and glancing towards where their baby, Tova, slept.
‘Do you know what’s happening?’ Ellan whispered.
The girl shook her head and closed the distance between them. ‘Nay, the Lady sent for me only moments ago. I believe she’s at the stables with Lord Vidar.’
Her worst fear was confirmed—why else would they be at the stables at this hour? Ellan thanked her and hurried down the stairs to the main room. Men scurried around as they finished their meal and donned their armour. Much fewer now than a few moments ago when she had first looked down. Most of them seemed to be outside—she could hear the horses being brought out, their hooves stamping the frozen morning earth.
Fear thrummed through her veins as she thought of her sister being forced from the man she loved. Had Ellan done this? Would it have happened if she had stayed with Father last night and agreed to leave with him?
From the corner of her eye she caught a movement that seemed familiar. Aevir stood beside a table, a bowl in front of him with the dregs of his quickly eaten meal, stuffing a pouch with more food. He wore the leather tunic he always wore when he was travelling, except he was also wearing chainmail. His sword was at his side, ready to be strapped to his back.
‘Aevir, you’re leaving?’ She hurried to his side.
He glanced at her, sparing a moment to take in the fact that she wore only a nightdress and a blanket. No doubt her hair was a mess from her unsettled sleep, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that at the moment. Going back to packing the food away, he said, ‘I’m tasked with putting an end to the Scots trespassing once and for all.’ At her puzzled look, he explained, ‘We’ve received word that Scots were sighted between here and Banford.’
Relief swept through her and she nearly sat down as a breath left her body. This was nothing to do with her sister and Father after all. ‘Oh, I thought...’
He paused and his gaze settled on her face. ‘What?’
Shaking her head, she gave a half-hearted smile and said, ‘It doesn’t matter. Travel safely. I’m certain of your victory.’
He flashed her a grin that made her belly flip pleasantly as he closed the flap on the pouch and tied it off. ‘I’m glad to have your confidence.’
‘Will you come back?’
He shook his head. ‘Not for a bit. After finding the trespassers, my men and I will guard the border until deep winter sets in.’
This might very well be the last time she saw him with her future so uncertain. She wasn’t sure where she would be in a few weeks. A sense of loss welled inside her. She wanted to say something profound, something that would let him know her feelings, except her feelings were that of an infatuated farm girl and would probably be an embarrassment to them both.
‘Have you seen Elswyth?’ she asked instead.
His brow furrowed as he ducked into the long strap attached to the pouch, leaving it to rest at his hip. ‘No one has told you?’ he asked.
Shaking her head, she said, ‘You were the first person I spoke with since coming downstairs. What has happened?’ She found herself grabbing his forearm, as if holding tight to him could keep anything bad away. ‘Has Father taken her?’
‘Nay. Ellan...your sister has left.’
‘What do you mean, Elswyth has left? Where has she gone?’ Ellan’s face had grown pale with terror.
Taking gentle hold of her upper arms through the blanket to help soothe her, he kept his voice calm. ‘It seems that she took a horse around midnight and rode north. We only found out a little while ago.’
‘Why would she leave?’ Her eyes were wide as she implored him for answers.
‘You know that she and Osric were close. Rolfe believes that she is heading to Banford. Perhaps to see his family and try to discern why he had been meeting with the Scots for herself.’
‘But you just said that the Scots were seen. What if they come across her? What if...?’ Her lips fell still around the words that she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling out when she closed them. ‘Aevir, they could take her.’
Staring down into her face, twisted with both fear and anguish, he was forced to re-evaluate his initial suspicion about the sisters. For there was no doubt that Ellan’s feelings were real and, if she was so afraid for her sister’s