chest. The hair above his lip was shaved, making it that much easier to see the flash of his teeth as he sneered at the young man on his knees before him. Others sat on benches clustered near them in the far end of the room, but every eye was on Wulfric and his victim.
‘Did you not swear an oath on your twelfth year to uphold the laws of this land?’ His voice seemed to bounce off the walls, easily filling the room.
She barely heard the young man’s softer ‘aye’. But something familiar about its cadence caught her ear. Looking closer, she saw that it belonged to Beorn, a man who lived in a cottage near her own. He wasn’t a warrior, but a hard-working field worker who’d only just managed to gather the coin needed to marry his sweetheart a few months ago.
‘Thievery is against the law of this land. I am told you stole a sheep. The wool was found in your home. Your wife...’
With this he gestured, and Aisly realised that the woman she had come to call a friend stood off to the side, silently sobbing.
‘She was there in the home with the wool. It’s obvious she knew—’
At this Beorn interrupted. ‘Nay, she knew nothing. I never told her where it came from.’
‘And yet she never suspected, never questioned.’ The sneer never left Wulfric’s face. The man seemed to get pleasure from tormenting those beneath him. Godric had often behaved the same.
‘She had no reason to suspect. I’d never told her about my debts.’
Aisly chewed lightly on her bottom lip and clenched her arms against her stomach. Rowena had only recently learned that she was with child. What would happen to them? Aisly knew that the young man’s debt had been to Godric. She didn’t know the specifics, because Godric had never told her, but she suspected it had to do with her late husband’s proclivity for games of chance. That meant that the man’s debts had fallen to her and she hadn’t called them due. She’d wanted to when the Danes had taken all her coin, but she knew that the couple didn’t have the ability to pay.
Searching amongst the men for Cuthbert, their chief’s familiar shock of white hair, or his brother Arte’s rotund body, she didn’t find them. Wulfric hardly ever met to address grievances without them present, but it wasn’t unheard of. Her father-in-law was the one the villagers all came to for their disputes.
Wulfric flicked his hand as if the man’s words meant nothing. ‘It matters not. She is your kin and as such will suffer along with you. I’ve no doubt that your thieving tendencies have infected her. You’ll be taken to Lord Oswine with a recommendation to be relocated—’
‘Wait!’ Aisly heard her own voice call out before she could stop herself. All heads turned towards her and the brief reaction she’d entertained of running out the door fled. It didn’t stop her cowardly rabbit heart from beating like that of a cornered animal.
Wulfric clenched his jaw and she had no doubt that vein in his temple that she was so well acquainted with throbbed as he set his eyes on her. She swallowed against the sudden dryness of her mouth and moved forward a few steps.
‘I—Is that necessary, Wulfric? I never called the debt due. Can’t the wool be returned to its owner and this all forgotten?’
‘It wasn’t your debt to call, my dear.’ The momentary shock that had crossed his face at her daring to interrupt was gone, replaced by a sneer.
‘It was owed to Godric, so it’s now mine.’ Her voice grew stronger and she tightened her fists at her sides.
‘Not everything that was my son’s is yours.’ A distinct thread of bitterness laced his words. ‘I was listed on the debt, it reverted to me. I called it due.’
‘They are indebted to you, yet you are the one with the power to level punishment on them for the debt?’ It seemed an unfair advantage.
‘Aye. I have that power. Is there something you are trying to say, Aisly?’
She sucked in a deep breath while her heart tried to beat its way from her chest. Wulfric had made it clear from the very first that he didn’t approve of his son’s marriage to a mere servant. He’d also made it known to others that he didn’t want her to stay in his son’s home. Now wasn’t the time to provoke him, but there was something blatantly unfair about what was happening before her.
‘Nay, Wulfric. I am only asking for you to be merciful. His wife is with child and I’ve never heard of either of them stealing. Perhaps it was one instance of poor judgement. If they return the wool, then nothing has been lost.’
Wulfric gave a short bark of laughter. ‘The sheep is still gone. It’s not only wool they took. And even if it were returned, the theft happened. It won’t erase the crime or the need for the punishment. Actions done, Aisly, cannot be undone.’ He gave her a vicious look that made her think those words were somehow meant for her and a chill crept down her spine. Then he dismissed her with a glance and turned his attention to the man kneeling before him.
‘Perhaps I could pay the debt,’ she insisted. ‘How much is due? As I recall, it’s fairly low.’
The amount he stated was so absurdly high she wondered if he’d made it up. She wouldn’t have had that much coin had the Danes from the settlement not raided her coffers. Correctly assuming she couldn’t pay, Wulfric turned his attention back to the man kneeling before him. He raised his hands high and wide as he made a show of it, delighting in the audience.
Aisly searched the room again for someone to help, but it was a fruitless search. No one save Cuthbert or Arte would dare to oppose him. Turning on her heel, she hurried from the room. The foreigner needed help and Cuthbert was the only one she’d trust to see to him. She’d also mention Beorn’s dilemma. The older man was kind and fair, where Wulfric was cold and deceitful. Perhaps he’d intervene. She rushed back out to the gates and almost ran into Cuthbert as he made his way towards the village from the fields.
* * *
‘We’ll take him to my hall. I’ll have Edyth look him over.’ Cuthbert stared down at the fallen warrior as if he was afraid to touch him. Two of his warriors had come with them back to the tree where she’d left the foreigner, but judging from the disparity in their size and the fact that the stranger would be a dead weight, she didn’t think they’d be enough to carry him inside.
As their chieftain, she’d always found Cuthbert to be wise and just, but she didn’t trust the others. The thought of leaving her foreigner at the mercy of the warriors who slept in Cuthbert’s hall made her stomach turn. ‘I’d prefer to take care of him myself.’ She kept her voice strong and full of confidence, though a quiver of doubt moved through her. The foreigner was big. A glance confirmed that his thigh, clearly bulging against the confines of his trouser leg, was as large as both of hers put together. He’d easily overpower her if he so chose.
Cuthbert gave a quick shake of his head. ‘We cannot trust this man.’
‘Nay, we can’t, but I saw him kill that rebel Dane with my own eyes. He’s not one of them.’ She’d relayed the story to Cuthbert and the warriors as they’d walked back into the forest. Though she’d left out how long she’d sat with him and the strangely gentle way he’d treated her. ‘He had plenty of opportunity to harm me if that was his intention.’
‘He appears too wounded to try to harm you,’ one of the warriors said.
They hadn’t seen him. They hadn’t seen how easily he’d moved to fight the rebel. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve killed her as well. There’d been no malice in his eyes, nothing to make her think he would harm her. She was intimately familiar with that look. The first time she’d seen it was two months after marrying Godric. She’d been busy with a commission and hadn’t noticed how late the day had become. He’d come home with a friend expecting to find roasted meat, only to get pottage. He’d not struck her...not that time...but the desire had been there in his eyes.
‘He’ll need constant care and rest. The hall isn’t the appropriate environment