Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy (20 page)

He moved closer and touched her arm.

Did she shudder?

"
This is a bad time, I know. Your father, and now Alfrida. Truly, it's better that we make no fuss over her."

"
Why?" She had to say something.

Were his eyes warmer?

"If he sends her home, she'll be safe. If he keeps her, then when the king's forces come and we take back the place, she'll be free. If he thinks she's a valuable hostage, however, he could demand a huge ransom."

"
Oh, that makes sense."

It did. Even her tangled mind saw that.

He suddenly drew her into his arms.

Precious Baby Jesus, it's working!

"What is it, then? Some other trouble?"

She rested against his strong c
hest, breathing in his scent, feeling as if their bodies were two parts of a whole, split and now rejoined. "Nothing special," she muttered. "Just everything."

"
True." He rested his head against hers.

If she turned her head up, would he kiss her?

Properly this time.

"
I wish...." he said, but then felt silent.

She did look up at him then, at lines that hadn't been there six months before, at beauty that was eternal.

"You wish?"

Kiss me, Raef.

He gazed at her a moment, but then he firmly put her away from him.

"
Wishes are for children, and we're neither of us children any more. Anyway," he said with a twisted smile, his eyes sliding away from hers, "we've worked so well to lessen the fear and panic here. We don't want people seeing us clutching one another like that."

Hera saw the stablemen watching, grinning.
"I don't think they think we're clutching one another out of fear."

"
What else?"

It was flat, absolute, and blocked any response. It shouted that he still didn't see her as anything but a friend.

Feeling fifteen again, with her hair in ribbons and her best dress on and still ignored, Hera tried to rescue her pride. "They don't know that," she said with a joking smile. "But you're right. Can't show any panic or fear."

"
That's my wolf." He turned and went back to the horse.

Hera very carefully did not watch him, and turned to stroll casually toward the hall, willing tears to stay inside, and lips not to tremble.

She
never
cried!

In the first private corner, she leaned against a wall and squeezed her eyes tight against impossible tears that threatened anyway. Why did she never learn? Raef thought of her as a sister, and that would never change.

She clutched the jewel under her garments. What of this, then? Was it to bring her some other man? Never! She didn't want any other man. If she couldn't have Raef, she'd stay unmarried all her days.

What of the Star, then? Why had it come to her?

She needed guidance, and hurried over to the small stone chapel, a holy, peaceful place. She put one of the thick pads on the ground in front of the altar, and knelt to pray.

Is this the Star?
she asked.

She could answer that herself. It must be.

What am I supposed to do with it?

She began silent, familiar prayers, letting them open her mind as she waited for an answer.

Then, it was as if a voice spoke. A woman's voice, soft and gentle. Mary's voice?

You must take the Star to Alfrida.

Chapter Five

For a moment, Hera rebelled. No! It was
hers.
Hers to capture Raef.

But then she bent her head and accepted bitter bread. She didn't need a heavenly voice to tell her that Raef was not for her. She'd just tested it, hadn't she?

Of course the Star was for Alfrida. Alfrida was the youngest daughter, and if she'd been here, she would have been cleaning the fish.

What was more, Alfrida was in a better situation to bring peace to this area. If the Dane fell in love with her and married her, he'd want to make peace with her family. That meant he'd have to surrender Acklingham. Which would help keep Raef from killing him, especially if Raef could be convinced that Magnus hadn't raped Edith.

She was beginning to think these tasks beyond even a miraculous pendant, and formed a simpler picture.

Once out of Acklingham, the Dane would leave this area. Perhaps he'd go to Sheppey, where the Vikings had their principal winter encampment on this side of the sea. That would separate him and Raef, though it would presumably mean that Alfrida would have to go and live with the enemy.

She began to try to plot ways around that, then realized this was hardly a pious response. She had to trust in God's mercy and wisdom.

"
Thy will be done, O Lord," she said, crossing herself and rising to bow to the altar. "Dear Mother of God, pray for us all."

She left the chapel, only then realizing how difficult a task she faced.

You must take the Star to Alfrida
.

All very well, but how? Was she to walk into a nest of Viking pirates, and deliver it?

Yes, it was just the sort of thing Christ and His mother expected of people. She swallowed panic and muttered another, "Thy will be done, O Lord."

One thing was certain. If Raef guessed her plans, she'd end up locked in her room like Alfrida!

The day had cleared a little, but the sun was already low. Not long to full dark on the longest night of the year. If she was to travel to Acklingham, she must leave now.

She couldn't help searching the sky like the peasants, looking for a hint of Christ's com
ing. She shook her head. Would Christ's mother have told her to take the jewel to Alfrida if within hours her Son was coming to bring the Last Judgment?

Safe from that, at least, she hurried into the hall, keeping an eye out for Raef, the only person likely to interfere with her movements. He must still be in the stables, and she must trust Mary to keep him there. Deep inside was direct fear of the Danes, but that wasn't something she needed to face now, and
she tried very hard to put faith in God. Her task was to get out of Froxton without raising the alarm.

She dressed in her warm cloak and mittens then headed toward the gates. No one guarded them when they were closed, for the watchman would alert everyone if people approached. She should be able to unlock the smaller portal and leave with no difficulty.

When she was close, however, she met the laundry woman, a basket of wet washing on her back. "Going out this late, Lady Wulfhera? Dark's coming."

Though her heart started to flutter nervously, she'd prepared for this.
"Just down to the mill, Hilda. A problem with the flour we just received."

"
That miller. Bone idle, he is," the woman muttered. The laundry women were generally in a foul mood at this time of year, and with reason. It was hard to get things dry, and working with wet cloth in cold weather was penance-work. Hilda said a God-go-with-you, however, adding, "You take care not to be benighted out there, Lady."

Hera hurried on, feeling guilty for making an unfair accusation about the miller, even though he was lazy and too fond of drink. She'd make reparation later.

In moments, she was through the gate, and crossing the wooden bridge over the ditch. She walked briskly down the track toward the river and the mill. If anyone was watching, her mission would look innocent.

Near the watermill, however, the road forked. One branch led to Tildwold, and the other to Acklingham, further down the river. There were a number of coracles tied up below the mill and she thought about taking one. The river was running fast, however, and she wasn't particularly skilled with the small, round leather boats. Near Acklingham, the river was tidal, too, and she didn't know when the tide came in.

No, she would have to walk, and make haste.

She set off, breath puffing white into the cool air. She prayed that the watchman wouldn't see her, or wouldn't find it strange and alert Raef. If only she'd been able to take horse. As it was, if he came after on horseback, she'd have no chance.

She couldn't help hoping he'd come after, hopeless though it was.

Though the weather had stayed dull, it had warmed a little and the ground wasn't so hard beneath her feet. In places she even had to skirt puddles of mud. The land around her was still deadly quiet, however, apart from the harsh cawing of the crows.

She knew the deserted feeling was nothing unusual. It was a quiet time of the year, and any people who'd been out in the fields and woods would have returned home before dark, especially with Danish raiders in the area. Still, as the light slowly faded, she felt dismally alone in a harsh world.

Clutching the pendant through her clothes, she prayed to the Blessed Virgin for protection. It was she, after all, who had sent her on this mission.

It would take an hour to walk to Acklingham. Time—too much time—to think of a future as bleak as wintertime Kent. If she survived this, what was she to do? It was more than her soul could take to live here with Raef nearby, perhaps watching him take another wife. And yet, she had no true devotion to the religious life.

With a wry laugh, she thought she could understand Raef's bleak outlook. At times, the end of the world seemed positively attractive.

Then, Acklingham came in sight, a solid, wood-walled manor set near the river. For the first time she wondered how it had been taken, even with Raef, his father, and most of his men away with the king. Some trick, she supposed, but they would have had a system to guard against that.

Had the Danes come by water? The river was navigable to here. As she speeded her steps, she glimpsed boats anchored on the river beyond the palisade. A few small fishing boats
—and two Viking longboats. Proof of what she had to face.

A bend in the road gave a new angle, and she saw that indeed the dragon prows had been replaced by crosses. She didn't think that would make much difference to her fate. Christian men seemed as able as pagans to be cruel.
Her faith in the Star of the Magi faltered and her steps slowed. Was she really planning to walk into a den of Viking raiders...?

She stopped.

In her own silence, she heard thunder behind her and whirled to see Raef hurtling toward her on horseback. Her purpose surged back full strength, and perhaps her purpose was as much to escape Raef as to reach the gates! After a quick, frantic glance around, however, she didn't run.

That was pointless.

Instead, she waved at Acklingham and screamed, "
Help! Help!"

A moment later, Raef was off his horse beside her and had her tight in one arm.
"By St. Peter's Keys, what do you think you're doing?"

"
Going to Alfrida."

"
Why?"

"
I have a reason!" She pushed against his unbreakable hold. "Let me go, Raef."

"
Never." He began to drag her toward the horse. "Is everyone in the world mad? Or are you just mad for Danes like she is?"

"
Don't be ridiculous." She kicked, she squirmed, she fought, all without daunting him. "I have a holy purpose there!"

"
What purpose?" He turned her roughly toward him and for the first time in her life she saw true, burning fury in his eyes.

For the first time, she feared him.

She feared for him twice as much. He was unarmed except for his sword. No shield. No mail.

"
Raef, I called for help. They'll be coming."

"
Then they'll come to my sword."

"
No! Leave! This is nothing to do with you."

"
Only if we leave together."

"
I can't do that. I have a
holy mission
."

He focused on her for the first time.
"What?"

She didn't want to tell him, but she must. He was holding her so her back was to Acklingham, but she thought she heard distant sounds as of men gathering or emerging.

"The Star of the Magi," she said rapidly. "I have it. I have to take it to Alfrida. The Blessed Virgin said so."

Anger left him, but pain remained.
"Oh, Hera. Not you too. What is this madness that flies around like a contagion?"

"
It's not madness!" The sounds were growing louder. "Go, Raef! Leave me here. I'll come to no harm. Mary will protect me."

Instead, he picked her up and flung her astride the wild-eyed horse, leaping up behind her, arms around her to the reins. Seeing the riders coming, she tried to slide off, but he had her in a pincer grip.
"Raef. Stop this!"

"
Never." He'd dragged the horse around toward Froxton, but then, insanely, he turned it back. "If God is kind," he almost purred, "this is Magnus Ravenbringer."