Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,29

Hereward prompted.

“You overestimate my abilities, but if ever it is you and I alone, mayhap both of us can be moved to bloodlust.”

“Only if you betray me,” Hereward said.

That Vitalis would not do, but neither would he remain at the rebel leader’s side. If not that he would earn Hereward’s distrust when he took Nicola, he would return and resume training the rebels to increase their chance of victory and survival. However, regardless of whether the Danes continued to play allies, likely Vitalis would meet his end if he came again to Ely.

“Not that I suspect that of you, Vitalis of Wulfen,” Hereward named him the same as Duke William had done in the cave, then swung away.

It was not as offensive spoken by this man who had also lost his lands to the conquerors. Indeed, in that moment, not offensive at all. If Vitalis could not be of Gaulbridge, he would be of Wulfen, it having become more a home than the place of his birth to which he had journeyed only occasionally following his departure as a boy. But as William’s enemy, Wulfen was denied him as well now that it trained those who would one day defend a Norman-ruled England.

Thrusting aside his losses, Vitalis called forth the three men he had been instructing in the simultaneous use of dagger and sword before their leader’s appearance.

Though they were among the best of Hereward’s warriors, two having served as men-at-arms before England was lost to the Normans, they could be better. Must be better. Would be better. If not, they would perish amid whatever the foolishness of Peterborough wrought.

Vilda surprised, not only for having shared the tidings delivered to her cousin of Prince Canute’s arrival in East Anglia and the ransoming, but her revelation it was Vitalis who persuaded Hereward to return the holy men to Peterborough. Of course, that last might not have been told if Nicola had not seen from her window what portended a clash between Danes and Saxons when the latter escorted the prior and his monks from their lodgings.

The earl had protested their release, drawing his men to him the same as Hereward had drawn his rebels before announcing the hostages were to be conveyed upriver.

Now as Nicola watched alongside Hereward’s cousin, barely breathing lest she miss a word spoken past shutters opened wide, she realized it was not only spilled blood that had a scent capable of turning the stomach, but blood soon to be spilled. Blessedly not this day, though surely only because Vitalis appeared in the company of two score Saxons who were as weapon-weighted as the Danes.

Nicola’s heart leapt. The same as Bjorn, the nearest she had come to him these past days was glimpses on the street below. But unlike with Bjorn, she had not slipped out of sight—had wanted to draw Vitalis’s regard.

So he does not forget I am up here, she had told her restless self who wearied of imagining all manner of escapes that could see her away from a room that felt as if it halved each day and would soon provide only enough space in which to stand.

“Hereward was wise to send word to Vitalis upon the training field,” Vilda said as she watched those gathered in the street. “Now the earl’s only chance of winning the argument, if it must be decided by aggression, is to summon those who guard the treasure.”

Nicola nodded. “That he will not do.”

“If he knew Prince Canute comes, he might.”

Nicola frowned. “Why is he not told of his nephew’s arrival?”

“Lest he do more than keep watch over the treasure.”

Nicola grunted. “Sooner than planned, you mean.”

The woman shrugged. “Best to exercise caution than trust.”

Nicola wished that were not true, but often it was.

Moments later, the earl ordered his men to disperse. If not that Nicola hoped to catch Vitalis’s eye, she would have jumped out of sight when Bjorn, striding alongside his sire, looked up.

Surprise burst across his face, then happiness as if she had shown herself in the hope he would see her.

Not wishing to rouse him to jealousy, she did not move her regard to Vitalis as she longed to do. Only when Bjorn and the earl entered a tavern on the opposite side of the street did she once more seek the warrior of red hair and beard.

Discovering his back was turned to her where he walked opposite with Hereward, she muffled a sound of frustration.

“Do you think you might be in love?” asked the woman