for the abbess. Though Vitalis had suggested she be gagged ahead of the exchange lest she alert Sir Maël and his men to the Danes’ approach before they gained the higher ground, his real reason for quieting her was the belief if she revealed to Bjorn she was to be traded, he would run with her—just as he had done in the end. Until Vitalis was able to explain himself to the lady, she would not make it easy for him to deliver her from her persistent captor.
“What do you think the earl will do?” Zedekiah asked.
“Were he wise, relinquish Lady Nicola to Prince Canute and ransom her to her family, but he is not. Had he more time, likely he would send Bjorn home to Denmark with the lady, but since the prince will soon arrive with the abbess—”
“The false abbess, do you not think?” Zedekiah asked.
Vitalis nodded. “I believe the earl will conceal Bjorn and Lady Nicola on a lesser ship beyond the estuary until he can determine the cost of once more indulging his son—and how true the lady’s feelings for an enemy of the Normans.”
“What are we to do, my lord?”
“Keep watch.”
And so they did, following at a distance and confirming Vitalis’s prediction when Nicola and Bjorn boarded a boat and were rowed toward one of a score of ships distant from the earl’s grand vessel anchored near the shore. They were almost beyond sight when the prince’s men arrived. And well beyond sight when Canute appeared.
Not surprisingly, Abbess Mary Sarah accompanied the prince. Surprisingly, Sir Maël as well. Not surprisingly, the king’s man had given chase when the exchange went wrong. Surprisingly, he was now their prisoner.
Since he was William’s man and of the family D’Argent, thereby worthy of a sizable ransom, Canute had Sir Maël taken aboard the earl’s ship. Whereas the chevalier had been caged in the hull, talk among the Danes was that Mary Sarah was given a cabin as befitting the future wife of a Prince of Denmark.
“What if we must choose between aiding Lady Hawisa’s sister-in-law and the abbess?” Zedekiah asked as night swept across the sea and crept over the estuary.
Wondering the same where he sat against a tree, eyes narrowed on the earl’s ship whose torches were being lit, Vitalis drew a hand over the fullness of his beard and down his bristling neck. “We may have to leave the abbess to Sir Maël. Until then, we watch and listen to sooner discover how all unfolds.”
“Accursed Vitalis of the Saxons!” Nicola pivoted, made fists of restless hands.
“Accursed Vitalis of the rebels!” She stepped forward, snapped arms to her sides.
“Accursed Vitalis of the Danes!” She splayed fingers, pivoted again.
“Accursed Vitalis of ungodly height and breadth!” She threw arms wide, gave a squeak when imagination placed her palms on those shoulders.
“Accursed Vitalis of red hair and beard!” Imagining the soft and coarse of both, she dug nails into palms, kicked the wall, and pivoted again.
“Accursed Vitalis of…everything!” She halted center of what Bjorn named a chamber.
“And accursed Nicola D’Argent who thinks herself clever,” she hissed, then cleared her scowl. “Not that I am not clever,” she defended herself to calm anger and frustration more due Vitalis than her. “But fie on this lady for allowing vexation to land her here.”
Breathing deeply, she considered this place whose floor was less inclined to stand still than she. The damp, planked walls of her chamber were the left and right sides of the ship’s stern, whereas the third wall was fashioned of sailcloth whose upper end also served as a ceiling to prevent rain and restless waves from soaking her should the weather turn foul.
“Oui, fie on me. Not only is Mary Sarah—” She snorted. Mary Sarah the abbess was, in truth, the illegitimate Mercia of the Godwines from whose family the Duke of Normandy had taken the English throne. Not that the Saxon woman had willingly confided her deception. It was Prince Canute who forced the revelation when Nicola rebuked him for abducting a holy woman.
Still, Nicola had aided her fellow captive in escaping the Danes, believing Mercia more valuable to them than this lady who had believed she could affect her own escape. The trade made, once more the false abbess was in the hands of Canute who believed wedding a relation of the departed King Harold would gain his sire Saxon support in unseating King William. Nearly as terrible, once again Nicola suffered the smitten Bjorn, and she was mostly