Chapter Three
Darach had expected to be firm with the lass—he wanted answers. Women were often the victims of men’s folly, and he didn’t consider her an enemy, yet. But once he’d seen the look of uncertainty in her eyes, and found himself able to take a full breath after realizing how beautiful she was, the plan of questioning her rigorously had simply faded.
At first, he thought her a slave, but she claimed noble birth. That alone could be worth something to his family. Use her as a means to bargain with the Norse—her life in exchange for peace. Until he fully understood her circumstances, he’d be kind and patient, as long as she did as she was told.
“The lass is a dangerous distraction,” Cameron said as he approached. “She belongs in a cell, far away from yer admiring eyes.”
Darach frowned at the captain. “Ye think me incapable of keeping a clear mind around her?”
“I think ye’re as susceptible to feminine charms as any lad yer age. Tis difficult to stay focused when yer pikk is clouding yer judgement.”
“She’s not the first beautiful lass I’ve ever seen.”
Ten years his senior, Cameron had always acted older than he truly was. “Tell me the last time ye’ve talked with a girl that had hair the color of fire, lavender eyes, and a smile so beguiling she could trick the devil himself.”
Wanting another look at the temptress his friend described, Darach peered over his shoulder, finding Elle warming her hands over the fire. Aye, everything Cameron suggested was true. What man could resist that face or form if he was exposed to her for too long? The lass should wear a veil to keep herself safe and his men as well.
“Would ye punish the lass for something she’s not to blame for? If the Almighty—”
“The Almighty has nothing to do with it. She’s a bloody heathen, crossed the North Sea on a ship bearing two dozen Norsemen who wouldn’t hesitate to slit yer throat, rape yer sisters, and take yer family’s lands. If ye think upon her that way, it might keep yer wee head in line.”
“Bread, Cameron, that’s all I need from ye right now.”
The captain blew out a frustrated breath and walked a few feet away to where their supply bags were located. He returned with a small wrap of cloth. “Feed her, don’t talk with her. Words are the first trap beautiful women set.”
Darach couldn’t resist laughing. “And I suppose ye speak from experience?”
“I’ve had my share of women, lad. Big and small, horse faced and lovely.”
“Thank ye for this.” Darach accepted the bundle of bread. “If I treat her as a prisoner, I won’t get the answers I seek. Instruct the men to show her the same courtesy we would any woman.” Cameron would simply have to trust him. He’d never endangered his men before and wouldn’t do so now just because an attractive lass had been found.
Returning to the fire, he sat down next to Elle and presented her with the fresh bread. “This will settle yer stomach. Once ye feel better, I will give ye some dried meat. Ye must slowly train yer gut to accept sustenance again, lass. Otherwise, ye will get sick again.”
Elle gazed at him for a long moment, then took the loaf and tore it in half. She offered him the larger portion, waited for him to bite into it, then did the same.
Her lack of trust with the food told him more about her than she would know. The lass thought he might poison her. “Tell me,” he said between bites, “why were ye the only woman on the ship?”
Her contented look faded. “A powerful jarl swept the countryside a couple of months ago, confiscated our lands, took our slaves, and imprisoned my sire and brothers.”
“I am sorry, lass.”
She shook her head. “There is nothing to be done. Christian jarls and chieftains live in constant danger in my country. Christ’s message threatens the very existence of the pagan gods.”
The lass was a Christian? “Ye are baptized?”
“Aye. Does it surprise you?”
He rubbed his chin, knowing their common faith would save her life. Even his father, known for his harsh dealings with the Norse, would never harm a Christian woman, regardless of where she was born. “I must confess, lass, I dinna know Vikings worshipped God. How is it ye were converted?”
“Converted?” Elle gave a wary look. “You cast a wide net, sir. Not every Norseman is pagan—as I’m sure not every Scot is Christian.”
Not wanting to endanger the honesty they’d established, he changed the subject. “Did yer father and brothers survive?”
“I know not.” She swallowed her last bite of bread. “I also have three sisters and a mother. I pray for their mortal souls.”
“There is a small kirk at my home. Ye are welcome to seek comfort there.”
“And a priest?”
“Aye.”
“Darach,” one of his men called.
Darach sighed and climbed to his feet, not wanting to leave her yet. “Aye?”
“We are ready to burn the ship and bodies.”
Darach turned to Elle. “Can I trust ye to stay here?”
Elle shot up. “Burn the bodies? You can’t. Please.”
“Why not, lass?”
Several of his men had gathered about them now, obviously curious to hear what she had to say.
“Although those men were Norse, all of them were bound for Orkeneyjar to answer to the nobles who rule those islands. Tis one of the only places where Christians are welcomed from Norway. It was a chance at a new life if we were willing to work hard and farm the land. Otherwise, they would have been put to the sword or sold into slavery. You cannot burn Christian bodies, they must be buried in consecrated ground.”
“How can ye trust her words?” one of the men asked.
“They all worship false gods,” another added.
“Tis untrue,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “Look for the crosses about their necks. We all wear one.” Determined to convince them of her trustworthiness, she opened her wool cloak and shoved her hand down the front of her smock, producing exactly what she described, a silver cross on a matching chain.
“Shite.” Darach raked his fingers through his hair. “Even if they are as ye say, lass, I suspect a catching illness has killed them all. We can’t risk carrying that sickness home with us. The bodies must be burned.”
“Illness?” She spun around, meeting the hard gazes of all of his men fearlessly. “Twas tainted mead and bread that killed them, and that storm. Many were lost at sea.”
Darach considered her words very carefully. It was one thing to spare her, but his men would never understand if he demanded special treatment for the dead Norsemen. “We haven’t the time to transport those bodies to my home. And I could never force my men’s hands—demand them to dig graves for who they see as their mortal enemy. We must reach an agreement, lass, something that will satisfy both sides.”
“What of their souls, sir? On judgement day, are you willing to face the Almighty and account for why you didn’t properly bury those men?”
Darach fisted his hands at his sides. Her words were meant to stir emotions, to make him question his choice. The lass had a sharp wit and tongue to match. “I would face the Almighty today if given the chance.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I beg mercy, sir.”
He turned away from her lavender gaze, for meeting it was as dangerous as staring at the sun for too long. “Luthais, Grim, and Kinnel—dig a mass grave. If these men are indeed Christians, we can’t burn the bodies. I won’t risk the damnation of innocent men, but nor will I risk our welfare by taking them home. The priest can travel here and consecrate the ground later. Lady Elle,” he said, looking at her again. “Will ye accept these terms?”
“These men will haunt me the rest of my days,” she said mournfully. “But yes, I accept your terms.”
Bearnard approached, holding her trunk. “Here it is,” he said, setting it on the ground at her feet.
“Thank you.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “If you’ll take the time to search my belongings, you will find the evidence you need to establish my identity.”
“There is no need,” Darach assured her. “I am sure ye’ll want to honor yer friends with prayers.”
“They weren’t my friends, only unfortunate victims of the same violence. But yes, I will offer prayers on their behalf. Someone needs to.” She bent at the waist and picked up her trunk, then walked away, toward the fire.
“She already weaves her spells about ye,” Cameron whispered from behind.
Darach spun around, angry. “Do ye know when to shut yer mouth, Cameron?” Before he said anything else he’d regret, Darach stormed off in the opposite direction of Elle. He needed time alone to think. The lass deserved his protection, but to what extent, he didn’t yet know.