Come Back to Me (30 page)

"Such suggestion I am sure they both heartily welcomed," Rycca said sardonically.

Cymbra laughed. "About as much as they would being boiled in oil. Hawk was especially bad. He had been married years ago when he was very young and had no good memories of the experience. But I must say, Krysta brought him round in far shorter time than I would have thought possible."

"Do you have any idea how she did it?" Rycca ventured, hoping not to sound too desperately curious.

"Oh, I know exactly how." Cymbra looked at her new sister-in-law and smiled. "She loved him."

"Loved him? That was all it took?"

"Well, to be fair, I think she also maddened, irked, frustrated, and bewildered him. All that certainly helped. But I will leave Krysta to tell her own story, as I am sure she will when opportunity arises. Let us return instead to Daria."

Cymbra looked off into the middle distance and sighed deeply. "Wolf and I came back to Sciringesheal still not knowing who had sent the false letter. Yet were we all determined to find out. In the meanwhile, Hawk and Krysta's marriage was arranged. Krysta came to Hawkforte and in time they were wed, but Daria remained determined to destroy the alliance. At the root of that determination was her hatred of Alfred. She reasoned, if any such as she can ever be said to reason, that the alliance strengthened the king in his stand against the Danes, which actually is true enough. Therefore, she set out to kill Krysta in such a way that Hawk would be blamed."

"To kill her? She actually meant to take her life?"

"Oh, yes, in fact she was quite set on it. As Krysta is Norse, Daria believed her murder seemingly at the hands of her Saxon husband would destroy all chances for the alliance and she was probably right. Fortunately, Krysta survived. Daria's guilt was discovered, as was Father Elbert's. He was turned over to Church authorities and Daria was banished to a convent, where she remains to this day."

Rycca let her breath out slowly, only then realizing she had been holding it as she learned of the woman who had blazed such a swath of hatred and havoc. "How terrifying all this must have been for you and for the Lady Krysta. To be wed under such circumstances and to face such danger… it makes me ashamed of my own reluctance and the troubles I myself have caused."

"Troubles? I have not heard of this."

Rycca glanced around at the other women who were still in the kitchen, though busy at their tasks. Her voice dropped. "Mayhap Lord Dragon does not wish it known."

"Then it shall not be." Quietly, Cymbra added, "But should you ever feel the need to speak, be assured I will not betray a confidence."

Truth
. Shining, unequivocal truth.

Even as Rycca recognized that, Cymbra's expression changed. She looked puzzled suddenly and spoke as though to herself. "What was that?"

"What?" Rycca asked.

Cymbra withdrew slightly, sitting back on her stool. She held her sleeping son more closely but her gaze never left Rycca. "Just now when I spoke, I felt something. It seemed to come from you."

She could not have. That was impossible. And yet…
truth
. Again, the Lady Cymbra had spoken exactly what she knew to be fact.

"Again," she said, and this time her gaze locked on Rycca's. "It is you."

"No." In her haste to get to her feet, Rycca almost knocked her stool over. "Pray excuse me. I must see to your quarters."

And she was gone, hurrying out of the kitchen, wishing desperately even as she fled that there was somewhere, anywhere, she might be free of her own strange self.

SHE COULD NOT HIDE FOREVER, NOR WAS SHE foolish enough to try. In short order, Rycca collected herself and decided what she would do. First, she would apologize to the Lady Cymbra, explain that her coming was just a little unnerving but that she was not usually so foolish. Then would she do her utmost to stay away from her sister-in-law however long the lady remained at Landsende. That the friendship that had seemed to spring up so readily between them would die aborning was merely one more lack in a life well accustomed to them. It seemed a good enough plan for what it was. Intent upon it, Rycca spared only a little wonder for Cymbra's seeming ability to know what another felt. Maybe it simply came with being ethereally beautiful, supremely courageous, and perfect in every way.

Wolf, Dragon, and all their men were still on the training field where the practice combat with the Moorish swords continued and remained the center of all attention. For that, Rycca breathed a small sigh of relief. Magda and the other women would be busy preparing the feast to welcome the Lord Wolf and his wife. To that, she could contribute nothing. Best she take herself off and find some quiet place to remain until her presence was required.

She chose the pond where she and Dragon had frolicked what seemed now like too long ago. It was very quiet there. Save for a few sea birds, she was alone. But not for very long. Scant minutes passed before Cymbra marched up over the hill, carrying her son, and came straight to Rycca. She sat down right beside her on the damp ground, heedless of her exquisite garb, and settled her child.

"I know you want to be alone right now and I apologize for ignoring your wishes. But I think there is something I need to tell you."

Uncertain what to do, Rycca hugged her knees and stared at the water. "How did you know where I was?"

"This is a favorite spot for Wolf and me whenever we are here. I thought you and Dragon might like it too."

"He taught me to swim here, just yesterday." She spoke wistfully, as though the memory was already fading.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you can feel what is truth."

Rycca turned her head and looked directly at Cymbra. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Think about it. How
could
I possibly know? What would I have to be able to do in order to know what you are feeling?"

"You would have to… feel the feelings of others."

Cymbra smiled gently. "And what better gift could a healer possibly possess?"

"You are saying… ?"

"That from earliest childhood I have been able to feel what others feel. It has been both blessing and curse. At first, I could not control it. That is the real reason why Hawk secluded me away in my own manor, not that nonsense you may have heard about not wanting men to fight over me. He would cheerfully have killed anyone who tried that. But until I learned how to build a wall to shut out the feelings of others, I was helpless. Eventually I did learn but I paid a high price. I lived behind that wall far too much. It was only after Wolf took me away that I learned I didn't really need walls, that I could live in the world and still have the strength to be as I am without being harmed by it."

Rycca nodded slowly even as she struggled to come to terms with what she had just learned. Such was the Lady Cymbra's reputation as a healer that some special gift did seem to be at work. But what a gift and what a formidable challenge to face, to be ever connected to everyone, able to feel what they felt, prey to their every emotion, fear, pain, all of it.

"It is not so terrible," Cymbra said. "I do know how to hold myself apart without sealing myself off. Can you do that?"

"No," Rycca admitted quietly. There seemed no point to concealing anything now, and the chance to unburden herself was far too tempting to deny. "Truth is truth, nothing stops it. Just as nothing stops knowing a lie for what it is."

"It felt to me like a shimmering, as though light had moved through me. Is that how it is for you?"

Rycca nodded. "By contrast, lies feel like a dark, suffocating cloud. There is never any question of which is which."

"But no one knows you have this ability?"

"I have kept it to myself although I think my brother, Thurlow, suspected. Had my other brothers or my father guessed, they would not have hesitated to kill me for being a witch."

Cymbra reached out and put her hand over Rycca's. Softly, she said, "I am sorry. But you are free of them now. Do you not think you could share this with Dragon?"

"Dragon, who was reluctant enough for this marriage and who now finds himself with a wife he can never hide anything from. Who will always know whether he is telling the truth or not. You think he would welcome such a wife?"

Cymbra thought for a moment. "Well… I don't know… Perhaps if you rubbed his feet?"

Rycca stared at her in shock, saw the look of pure deviltry in Cymbra's eyes, and burst out laughing at the same moment as her new sister-in-law—and friend—did the same. They laughed and laughed, not quieting until Lion stirred, gazed at them reproachfully, and opened his mouth to unleash a bellow that reverberated off the nearby hills and sent the sea birds scattering to safety.

"Oh, my heavens," Rycca said when it was finally quiet enough to say anything at all.

Cymbra sighed. She rose, picked up her son, and tried to settle his head back against her shoulder. "It has been ever such. He almost brought the rafters down in the chapel at Hawkforte where he was christened."

"It is most impressive," Rycca said as she, too, stood. "I suppose that accounts for his name."

"It's actually Hakon, to honor Wolf and Dragon's father, but he is called Lion and I suspect he always will be."

Just as he would be satisfied only to be set down. On his own two feet, he toddled off determinedly toward the top of the hill, leaving the bemused women to follow.

WOLF, CYMBRA—AND LION—REMAINED at Landsende for a week. For Rycca, the time went by far too quickly. She and Cymbra became fast friends, exploring the area for the herbs Cymbra always needed, talking about everything under the sun, and dissolving into such frequent gales of laughter that their husbands took to rolling their eyes every time they saw them. She even learned to relax in the presence of the Wolf, who, observing his brother's obvious happiness, dropped his stern demeanor. The evenings passed in conversation interrupted only by the stories Dragon was persuaded to tell. He had a seemingly endless supply and recounted them so well that Rycca found herself hanging on every word.

Taking note of this, Cymbra waited until Dragon had finished a tale before she said, "Don't you think Rycca would like to hear about Hadding, the warrior Odin rescued from his enemies? Indeed, so would I for as I recall, the last time I asked about him, you told the story in great haste without the scantiest details." There was a gleam in her eyes that Rycca had come to understand meant she was up to something, but she had no idea what might lurk behind so seemingly innocent a suggestion.