Come Back to Me (29 page)

Before such challenge, she could not back down. Rycca took the sword and gripped it firmly, praying not to disgrace herself. It was heavy but definitely not so much as other swords that she had tried in secret. This one was different. She could actually heft it. And did so, gracefully, letting it swing in small, controlled arcs. Thurlow had taught her all he dared, for he had feared, not wrongly, that she might be provoked someday into taking a blade to one of their brothers or even, if her desperation grew enough, to their father. That would have meant her death yet there had been times when she had contemplated such as a reasonable choice.

Not now, though, this was only play. She kicked her skirt to the side, laughed, and pointed the tip of the blade at Dragon, almost but not quite touching his broad chest. "Too bad you do not have another."

"Oh, but I do. I bought two of them, that one for me and another for Wolf." He allowed just a moment for her to contemplate that he might seriously consider calling for the other sword, then proved he did not need it to deliver a blow that stunned her.

"By the way, he and Cymbra ought to be here soon."

"W-what… ?" Caught off guard, she let the tip of the blade drop.

"My brother and his wife, they will be here today. I thought you'd want to know." He was grinning broadly, damn him.

"Of course I want to know! But now, only a few hours before they come? Why did you not tell me sooner?"

He stepped forward and kindly took from her the sword she had forgotten. "What matters that? Magda and the women will see to the cooking. The lodge Wolf and Cymbra always use is kept ready for them. And you—" He looked her over so blatantly as to wring chuckles from his relieved men. "You look well enough."

She wanted the sword back. She was going to stab him with it.

He seemed to read her mind and deftly sheathed the blade. Speaking so softly that only she could hear, he said, "Everything will be all right, Rycca."

Well did she wish to believe him but doubt filled her. The Lady Cymbra would never point a sword at her husband, much less in front of a crowd of his own men. But then she probably wouldn't knee him in the groin either. Her beauty was renowned, as was her skill as a healer, and as though that were not enough, there was said not to be a better cook in all of Christendom.

And she was coming here. Rycca groaned inwardly. Truly, her cup runneth over.

THE DRAKAR FLYING THE WOLF-EMBLAZONED sail dropped anchor in the port of Landsende scant hours later. Dragon was on the dock to greet it and his wife was beside him, though it had taken some persuading to get her there. Even now he kept firm hold of her hand lest she try to absent herself. Not that she would. Flight at such a time would be cowardly. Besides, there was nowhere to run.

So did she stand with all the dignity she could muster, silently giving thanks to the Lady Krysta, yet another perfect wife, who had seen to it that Rycca was properly garbed. Although something was sure to be out of place. She had taken great care to avoid any damage to her gown but her hair was probably mussed or her cheeks too flushed or her manner insufficiently feminine. Somehow or other, she was certain to be found wanting.

Especially by the tall, dark-haired man clad in stark black who stepped from the drakar, offering his hand to the woman who appeared beside him.

He was as tall as Dragon and, by all evidence, as formidable a warrior. But then she had expected nothing less. His features were handsome enough, she supposed, though she scarcely glanced at his face. It was on the woman she focused, and what she saw made her heart drop.

The Lady Cymbra was beauty personified. Chestnut hair shot through with gold tumbled in thick waves almost to her knees. Her eyes, blue as the sea beneath summer sun and thickly fringed, were set in an oval face of damask perfection. Her nose was slender and tapering above full, rose-hued lips that were moist and slightly parted. Her body, suffice to say, was everything a man was likely to dream of but never quite find.

She was perfect—exquisitely, extraordinarily perfect. She looked like a statue come to life, scarcely a real woman. Until, that was, she smiled. Then she suddenly looked human and… nice. Quite simply nice.

"Dragon!" she said and moved ahead of her husband to greet her brother-in-law with a warm hug. "You look well. The leg still is not bothering you?"

"It would not dare, after the terror you put it through." He spoke with obvious fondness laced with humor. Over the top of her head, he said, "Well met, brother. You wasted no time getting here."

The feared Lord of Sciringesheal, whose warrior's prowess was known from the ice-rimmed lands of the north to the balmy seas of the distant south, grinned. "Did you not think I would? Your ships were seen off the coast full two days ago. Plenty of time for me to hear of your return." His gray eyes shifted to Rycca, and with that his smile faded. "Lady Rycca of Wolscroft, I presume?"

Dragon set Cymbra aside gently and took his wife's hand again. Holding it, he said, "Nay, brother, Lady Rycca Hakonson now."

The Wolf said nothing, merely looked at her. Rycca felt time slow to a full stop as she met those ice-cold eyes. Her stomach plummeted.

"Wolf, stop that." Lady Cymbra laid a hand on her formidable husband's arm and smiled at him sweetly. "You'll frighten the poor girl, and heaven knows she's had enough to cope with."

Turning to Rycca, she said matter-of-factly, "Pay him no mind. He and Dragon are devoted to each other, which is just as it should be, but that doesn't mean we aren't delighted to welcome you into the family. Now come, you must tell me all the news from Hawkforte." She took Rycca's arm, disengaging her from Dragon, and began walking with her up the dock toward the road, ignoring the men and chattering all the while. "Krysta writes regularly as does Hawk but I can never have too much news. You saw them, didn't you? Are they well, and Falcon also?"

Stunned at the daring of a woman who would deal so confidently with the formidable Wolf, not to mention the Dragon himself, Rycca could do little but stammer. "Yes… well… all of them."

"Oh, good, and yourself? I hope the journey here did not tire you overmuch."

"No, it was fine."

Over her shoulder, Cymbra called, "Wolf, bring Lion, will you? Rycca and I are going on ahead."

The Wolf muttered something and Dragon laughed in response. Rycca found herself whisked away back up toward the fortress. She scarcely knew what to think except that she was in the presence of a woman who was as close to legendary as any being could get. What stories were told of her! That she had been sequestered in her own manor to prevent men from fighting over her, that she possessed strange powers, that the Wolf had kidnapped her for vengeance but married her for love, that her own brother, mistaking what had happened, had returned her to England by stealth and that Norse and Saxon had come perilously close to war over her.

Yet for one who had lived such a tumultuous life, she
seemed remarkably down-to-earth. "Have you found all as it should be at Landsende? I know Magda is very competent but if there is anything you need…"

"Thank you, no. There seems to be more than enough of everything."

"Everything except what Dragon has needed most," Cymbra said frankly, "a wife to give comfort and meaning to his life. He and Wolf had a hard time of it when they were growing up. Has he told you much about that?"

"A little… he told me about going to sea when he was very young."

"They made their own way for years against obstacles that would have destroyed lesser men. It is said that along with my brother, Hawk, they are the most formidable warriors in the world today and I think that may be true. But now they want peace and are willing to go to great lengths to get it."

"Even to Dragon marrying an unknown woman he did not choose for himself," Rycca blurted. She could scarcely believe she had spoken so, yet Cymbra's own openness prompted the same in return.

"You are the third bride wed for peace," Cymbra said with a smile. "And to be frank, it has not been an easy road for the two of us who went before. Yet knowing what we do now, neither Krysta nor I would ever have chosen a different path."

"How much choice did you have?"

To Rycca's surprise, Cymbra laughed. "In my case, none." She sighed in mocking languor. "I still remember Wolfs deeply romantic proposal. He told me that if I did not wed him, he would kill my brother."

"He what?"

"Oh, don't worry, he's gotten much better." She laughed again, fondly. "Much, much better. Besides, Dragon is the one who was always good with women."

Rycca could not dispute that but neither could she
ignore what she had just been told. Shocked, she asked, "What did you do?"

"Do? Why, I punched him, of course. What else could I do? He went to our wedding worried that the blow still showed."

"You… punched him?" The ethereal beauty beside her had struck the fierce Wolf?

"Rycca, dear sister, something you must learn at once. Wolf and Dragon are both wonderful men but they are also overwhelming. It is part of their charm. Nonetheless, with them it is always best to be firm. For that matter, the same can be said of my brother, as Krysta learned readily enough."

"She and Lord Hawk seem devoted to each other."

"As are Wolf and I. That doesn't mean one should be a meek little woman rubbing feet."

"What a horrible notion! However did you think of it?"

"Oh, didn't you know? That's the kind of wife Dragon always said he wanted."

Too many more shocks of this sort and she was going to turn to stone right where she stood. "He said that? Whatever could he have been thinking? Any such woman would drive him mad."

"Which is more or less what Wolf told him, only he said she would kill him with boredom. No, Dragon needs someone who can match his spirit, which I am now reassured you can do. Come, let us seek out Magda, who will serve us cool milk and cakes and give us a snug place to talk while the men amuse themselves."

"Dragon has a sword for his brother."

"The Moorish sword? Perfect, they will be occupied for hours. We won't see them again until they are satisfied neither is stronger or more agile than the other."

"Have they always been so competitive?" The questions tumbled out. She was so eager to know all and could scarcely believe that the legendary Lady Cymbra was so approachable. Perhaps her being here was not such a bad thing after all.

"Yes, I think so, since they were both grown. But make no mistake, their loyalty to each other is absolute. And now, I am happy to say, they have extended that to include my own brother, who knew very little of loyalty in his life until he met those two and Krysta also."

"Forgive me, but that seems an odd thing to say about a lord so mighty. I would think he could command the loyalty of everyone around him."

They had reached the kitchens. Magda and the other women were rushing out to greet them. Cymbra turned and looked at Rycca directly. Her clear blue gaze seemed suddenly to look past all masks. What she saw must have pleased her for she smiled warmly, yet did a shadow of concern move behind her eyes. "Does the name Daria mean nothing to you?"

Slowly, Rycca shook her head. "No, nothing."

Cymbra sighed. "I feared as much. Dragon would not want to alarm you. Yet you must know."

She broke off then, holding out her arms to Magda, who swept her on into the kitchens. Rycca followed.

"DARIA," CYMBRA SAID A SHORT TIME LATER AS they sat on stools in the kitchen, sipping milk drawn from the deep cooling well where it was kept to chill, "is my half-sister and Hawk's. Our mother was our father's second wife. His first bore Daria. She was already grown when I was born and I knew her little, but this much I did know: She was married in her youth to a lord of Mercia who fancied himself a rival for the power of Alfred of Wessex. As Alfred worked to unite the country against the ravages of the Danes, her husband worked to betray him."

"Treachery seems commonplace among the lords of Mercia," Rycca murmured.

"That fellow Udell whom Hawk killed last year was Mercian, wasn't he?"

"He was, and as great a traitor who ever lived."

Cymbra nodded. "Such was also true of Daria's husband. In time, Alfred realized it. He met that lord in combat and defeated him, killing him in the process and seizing his lands as the law requires. Daria lost what she valued most, not the husband but the power and privilege she thought her due. She never recovered. Though Hawk provided her with a good home and even for a time gave her the running of Hawkforte, yet did she nurture great hatred of Alfred."

She broke off to settle her son more comfortably on her lap. Wolf had stopped by to leave the child with her, surprising Rycca with the easy competency he showed toward the boy. Remembering what Cymbra counseled about not allowing herself to be overwhelmed, she managed to look past the Wolf's formidable manner to see within the man who clearly loved his wife and child with all his heart. That he was also hurrying off to engage in mock combat with her husband was mildly worrying, to be sure, especially since they were both so obviously eager to wreak havoc on each other. Rycca consoled herself with the thought that they must have done the same before, probably many times, and survived it.

Besides, she was too preoccupied with the story Cymbra told to worry overmuch.

"About two years ago," Cymbra went on, "Wolf conceived the idea of an alliance between Norse and Saxon to stand against the Danes. He thought such an alliance would be best confirmed by a marriage between himself and me. This did he propose in a letter to my brother. With the help of a traitorous house priest, Father Elbert, Daria intercepted that letter and stole Hawk's seal as well. She sent back to Wolf a refusal in Hawk's name and mine that not merely rejected the alliance but also insulted him deeply. His response was all too predictable, although it is certain Daria herself never thought of it."

"What did he do?" Rycca asked, trying very hard not to sound breathless.

Cymbra smiled in fond memory. "Wolf came to Essex and took me by stealth. We were married as I told you and only then did he send word to Hawk as to where I could be found. Naturally, my brother was very angry and concerned. He came to Sciringesheal, where I did my utmost to convince him that I was happily wed, which certainly was true but unfortunately he did not believe. So are men ever stubborn. One thing led to another and Hawk spirited me back to Essex. Winter set in and it was months before Wolf could follow. During that time, Hawk realized his mistake. Once Wolf arrived, all was settled amicably, which was a good thing because this little one"—she smiled at her drowsy son—"had just been born and I was in no mood to put up with any more foolishness on the part of bull-headed men. It was while we were at Hawkforte, waiting as I regained strength to return home, that Wolf suggested Hawk and Dragon should also make marriages for the alliance."