unaware of what they should do. How had this happened? How had Ragnar Strongspear gained entry to Cadda-wic? It was a common thought.
“You will obey Ragnar Strongspear for now,” Cailin said as she came into their midst. “I want none of you harmed.” She was very beautiful in a dark green tunic dress decorated with gold threads. Cailin turned to Ragnar and demanded in proud tones, “How came you here?”
His eyes devoured her. By Woden, she was a beauty, and he would have her this night beneath him! “By means of a Trojan horse,” he answered her. “Do you know the story? Antonia told it me.”
Cailin nodded. “I know the tale well,” she said, and then a light of understanding dawned in her eyes. Her gaze swept the room and found what it was seeking. “Aelfa,” she said. “Aelfa was your Trojan horse, was she not, Ragnar Strongspear? Who is she?”
“My brother Gunnar’s eldest daughter. She is fifteen, and very wily,” he said, chuckling.
“The girl, Aelfa, has betrayed us,” Cailin told the gathering of her people. “She is Ragnar Strongspear’s niece.”
A terrible groan arose from Bran-hard. “Bitch!” he cried, and then flung himself before Cailin. “Lady, you must forgive me! I desired her, and she knew it. She came to me last night as I kept watch and offered herself to me. Then she fed me drugged wine to render me unconscious. It is my fault that the hall is taken! Forgive me!”
“You are a fool, Bran-hard, but get up and go about your duties. What is done is done, although you are not likely to escape some punishment from my husband when he returns,” Cailin told him.
Bran-hard scrambled to his feet. His complexion had a decidedly yellow-green tinge to it. He looked as if he would be sick at any moment. “Thank you, lady,” he managed to gasp.
Cailin realized now that the reason Aelfa had fixed her attentions on poor Bran-hard and the hapless Albert was that they were the two men assigned to the gatehouse. Each took his turn in rotation, keeping the watch through the night. Aelfa did not care for either of them, and poor Albert could have just as easily been her victim had he been on duty last night. It was only bad luck for Bran-hard that it had been his turn.
“How did Aelfa communicate with you?” Cailin asked Ragnar as they seated themselves at the high board and the hall regained some semblance of normalcy. “I sensed something wrong, but did not know what.”
He looked eagerly toward the end of the hall for the servants who would soon be coming from the cook house with the morning meal. Ragnar well remembered the good table Cailin kept. “I had a man on the hill watching from the day you found her at your gates,” he told Cailin, and then he gulped down the good brown ale poured into his cup. “I’ve never tasted better,” he complimented her with a grin.
“Yesterday,” Cailin said slowly. “She contacted the man yesterday afternoon when she slipped out, ostensibly to berry, but she took no basket with her. I knew it a lie, but not the reason for the lie.”
The food was now beginning to arrive. Ragnar took his knife from his belt and cut himself two thick slabs of ham. He helped himself to several hard-boiled eggs and a small loaf of bread. “More ale!” he commanded the attending servant, then he asked Cailin, “Where are your children, lady? I hear you had a son but a few weeks back. That bitch Antonia lost my child after the solstice. It was a son, too. She is a bad breeder, but you will be a good breeder for me. Did you know that I am going to make you my wife, Cailin? The first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew that I wanted you. My Saxon women are good creatures, loyal and hardworking, like milk cows. Antonia is a viper, but sometimes a little poison is sweet. You, however, my little fox vixen with your russet curls, will give me the greatest pleasure of all.”
“I have a husband,” Cailin said quietly. She was not afraid of this braggart. He could not have taken Cadda-wic without treachery, and he would be driven out.
“I will kill Wulf Ironfist,” Ragnar bragged.
“I think rather he will kill you,” Cailin replied quietly.
“Your children?” he demanded again. “Where are they?”