S ix hot loaves of nut bread were put in a basket and taken outside to the waiting baggage carts. Eda had woken Kristen early to come down and make them for the King's departure. He and his party were finally leaving.
Servants again gathered at the windows to watch as the many nobles mounted their fine horses. The sky was thick with angry clouds. They were likely to be drenched in rain before the morning was through. Yet no order was given to delay. Alfred did not await the weather.
Unlike the arrival of these nobles, Kristen was able to watch their leaving along with the others. She saw the King embrace Royce. She saw them laugh together over something Alfred said. And then she watched this young King of the Saxons ride out of Wyndhurst.
She was not sorry to see him go, disliking the upheaval his visit had caused. And yet she knew what his going meant to her: The bargain she had made with Royce was at an end.
She walked slowly back to the cooking area, Eda by her side. "Did Royce say aught to you this morn?" she ventured.
"Aye, he did."
"Oh."
"'Oh'? 'Tis not like you to hedge, wench," Eda said testily. "If you want to know about the chains, ask me. Nay, do not ask. I have his order, no more than you expected."
"Aye, I expected no more."
"If 'tis any consolation, he was no more happy about it than you are."
" 'Tis not."
Eda glowered at her apathy. "You made one bargain with him. Make another. You have sense, wench. Use what you have to get what you want."
The old woman finally managed to spark her ire, which came out in sarcastic scorn. "You go against your lord to suggest it. You forget how little I can be trusted. I am likely to escape in the bright light of day."
"Aye, do not listen to me. You never listen to me. What do I know? I have only known the man since he was a babe. I have—"
"God help me!" Kristen's annoyance snapped. "If you do not cease to nag me, old woman, I will—"
"God help you?" Royce queried from behind her. "Which god is that?"
She swung around, too heated to notice his surprise. "What do you want, Saxon? Have you not hunting or training or some such to do? I hate it when you sneak up behind me!"
He knew what had set her off. He had anticipated it would not be easy to get the chains back on her. It was why he was here, to see that nothing untoward happened. But she had thrown him off guard by using an imprecation that only a Christian would use.
"Which god do you entreat?" he repeated.
Her mouth set mulishly. She was not going to answer. He gripped her arms and shook her until, in a burst of fury, she shoved him away from her.
"Rattle my teeth again, Saxon, and I swear I will lay your cheek open with my fist!"
He should have exploded into fury himself. Instead he laughed. " 'Twas only a simple question, Kristen. Why are you so defensive?"
His laughter worked on her like magic, soothing the edges of her pique. Why was she still keeping this secret? There had been reason to in the beginning, but not anymore.
Kristen smiled at her own foul temper. Eda turned away, shaking her head at such quick changes of mood. Royce was just as confounded. The way she could master turbulent emotions so easily was uncanny.
"Forgive me, milord," Kristen said, though she did not look at all contrite. "I did not mean to push you . . . well, I did, but I am sorry for it."
"Which does not mean 'twill not happen again."
"True." Her eyes laughed at him.
Royce grinned, shaking his head. "Do you answer my question now?"
She shrugged. "I pray to my mother's God."
"Then why not call him by name?"
"I did." At his raised brow, she explained, "My mother's God is your God."
He stiffened, humor flown. "How is that possible?"
"Very easily, milord. Vikings have raided other lands for many, many years. Raids bring home Christian captives. My mother was one. My father's mother was also Christian. My father and brothers"—she smiled here—"they do not take chances and worship all gods."
"And you?"
"I believe in the one true God."
He frowned, reminding her sharply, "You defended your friends' intent to sack a monastery!"
She frowned back at him. "I did not defend. I understood, which is more than you are willing to do. I told you my brother would not tell me their intent. I did not tell you why, but the why is that he knew I would fight with all my heart to change his course. So he did not tell me. So he came here and he died! I know in my mind 'twas God's will, but half my blood is Viking blood and my heart cries for revenge. Do you tell me Saxon Christians do not avenge a loved one's death?"
He could not tell her that. The church abhorred blood feuds, but could not prevent them.
"Why did you never tell me you are Christian?" he demanded.
"What difference would it have made? Your other slaves are Christian and yet they are still slaves."
"It makes a difference, Kristen. It gives us a common bond, and gives me the leverage I have lacked to deal with you. It gives me something to trust in."
Her eyes slanted suspiciously. "What are you saying, Saxon?"
"I can accept your word if you will swear in God's name. Swear you will never try to escape from here, and you will have the same freedom afforded the other servants."
"No more chains?" she asked incredulously.
"None."
"Then I swear—"
She stopped herself. This was too fast. She was committing herself without thinking about it first.
"Kristen?"
"God's teeth!" she snapped. "Give me a moment."
Never, he had said. Never was forever. What would happen when he no longer wanted her, when he had a wife to see to his needs? She would hate it here then, and no doubt come to hate him, too. And yet by her word she would have to stay here, to go on serving in this hall—forever.
She gave him a level look. He would like that. What did he care for her feelings? But then, he must care something, or he would not be willing to make this bargain with her.
"Very well, milord. I swear in God's name that I will not try to escape from Wyndhurst—until such time as you marry." His eyes narrowed, and she added reasonably, "I am sorry to say it, but I do not like your betrothed. I do not think I will be able to tolerate this place once she rules the hall."
"Done," he snapped.
"You mean it?" she asked in surprise. "You accept those terms?"
"Aye. 'Twill just mean you will be back in chains at that time."
She gritted her teeth, chagrined. "So be it. But that is all I will swear to."
"Nay, you will also swear you will not aid your friends in escape." He touched a finger to her lips to still her angry cry. "Until such time as I wed."
"Done!" she retorted bitterly. "But I will not swear off my vengeance!"
"Nay, I know you will not," he said regretfully. "Alden is sufficiently recovered to protect himself against you. I will trust in his ability, as long as you do not attack him in his sleep."
"I seek revenge, not murder," she replied with contempt.
"Very well. Then I only need warn you that if you do kill Alden, I will be forced to take your life in payment."
Those were his last words. He walked away, leaving her simmering in exasperation. Somehow she did not feel she had come out the winner in this bargain, either.