Strongspear’s throat. The look of total amazement in his eyes faded so rapidly that she wasn’t even certain she had actually seen it. She scrambled off of him and stood shivering, staring down at the dead man, not even sure he was really dead. She was afraid for a long moment that he would jump up, but no. He was dead. Very dead. She had killed Ragnar Strongspear. She had killed a man.
Cailin began to weep softly with relief. When at last her sobs subsided, she became aware of the fact that she was covered in blood. His blood. She shuddered with distaste, and forcing herself to function, moved across the solar, poured water into a basin and washed, washed, washed, until finally she was clean again. Being clean and having fresh garments seemed to help a little. She avoided looking across the room to the bed space where Ragnar Strongspear lay sprawled in a widening pool of his own blood. Instead she sat down by her loom, eventually dozing with exhaustion, until the birds, twittering excitedly in the predawn, roused her. Starting awake, Cailin remembered what had happend the previous night.
What was she going to do? When Ragnar’s men discovered that she had killed their master, and they certainly would, they would kill her. She would never see Wulf and their children again. Nervous tears began to slide down her pale cheeks. No! She would not allow herself to be slaughtered like a frightened rabbit.
Perhaps she could escape Cadda-wic before Ragnar’s body was discovered. It was very early, and no one was stirring in the hall. She could climb down, and then she would hide the ladder to the solar. Everyone would assume Ragnar was sleeping off the excesses of his night’s sport. She would rouse the other women, and together they would all slip through the gates on one pretext or another.
No! It simply wouldn’t work. There were too many of them not to seem suspicious. She couldn’t leave the other women behind to face the violent wrath of Ragnar Strongspear’s men. She would go and fetch the two girls hidden in the bake house. They would join the other women beneath the grain storage barn. Yes! That was a far better plan. No one would find them there, and surely Wulf would come soon.
Cailin pushed the chests from atop the door and, sliding the bolt, opened it, and lowered the ladder before her. Drawing the door softly shut after her, she swiftly descended into the hall. Where would she hide the ladder? Cailin wondered. She would throw it down the well! She could never go back into the solar again. Not after what had happened to her there last night. A hand fell heavily upon her shoulder, and unable to help herself, Cailin screamed softly with her terror.
“Lambkin! It is I.”
She whirled, heart pounding, and Wulf Ironfist stood before her. Beyond them in the hall, Ragnar Strongspear’s men stood shackled and surrounded by their own people. “Ohh, Wulf,” she sobbed, collapsing with relief into his arms. After a moment she stiffened and, pulling away from him, she queried, “How did you get into Cadda-wic? Were the walls not manned by Ragnar Strongspear’s men?”
“We got in the same way our men got out the other night. There is a small trapdoor in one of the gatehouses. It leads to a narrow tunnel beneath our defenses, lambkin. I sent Corio back for the men. They departed the other night by means of that tunnel. Then they told me in detail of Ragnar Strongspear’s defenses. We returned this dawning the same way and took back Cadda-wic.”
“Why did I not know of this tunnel?” Cailin demanded, outraged. “I had to hide our women in the cellar beneath the grain barns to keep them safe from these intruders. Why was I not told of it?”
“Corio sent Albert to look for you, lambkin, but you had disappeared. Albert had no choice but to go with the others,” Wulf explained, but Cailin would not have any of it.
“He might have told one of the women,” she insisted, forgetting that she herself had hidden the women away for safety’s sake. “I had to barricade myself in the solar to escape the unpleasant attentions of Ragnar Strongspear. Would you have had me wandering the hall, playing the gracious hostess to that savage pig?” She was furious.
“But you did not escape my uncle last night,” Aelfa said meanly, coming forward, a nasty smile upon her beautiful face.