‘Is this a good time for a social call? Thor appears to be losing his temper at Loki over something.’
Her brow knitted in confusion. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I refer to the thunderstorm—in my world thunder is Thor striking his hammer.’
‘Are your men well?’
‘They are recovering.’ Moir kept his gaze studiously from the stone at the back of the byre. This storm was his best chance to get the escape preparations complete, ready for the time when they could go. And keeping his men together would ensure that, when the opportunity struck, he could take full advantage of it. Bjartr and Palni were recovering, he knew that in his heart. ‘If I start fearing for them, I will let you know.’
The thunder rumbled again and still she stood there with a quizzical expression on her face. Moir frowned. ‘Is there anything else we can help you with, my lady Valkyrie?’
She held out a slender hand, one which seemed far too fragile to have wielded that bow and arrow with such deadly efficiency. ‘I require your brooches.’
‘Our brooches?’ Moir’s mind raced. He had figured they would have more time before Guthmann arrived. Had he miscalculated? Had the Mercian lord returned?
‘You stated that they would help prove your identity. You wanted to take them to your jaarl.’
He motioned to his men to remain where they were. There was no point in making a break for freedom unless all hope was lost and there was no other way to survive. ‘Yes, I wanted to take them myself. My jaarl will know them.’
‘But your jaarl will know them without you being there to tell him?’
Moir clenched his teeth. ‘True, but—’
‘Either a yes or no.’
‘Has the Mercian lord returned, offering you more money for us?’
The Valkyrie blinked twice. ‘Cedric? He seeks to exploit the situation to his advantage. He will return soon, but he hasn’t so far.’
‘Then why the sudden urgency? Has Guthmann sent another messenger?’ Moir’s brain raced. They could wait until the cover of darkness, then he could carry Palni on his back. The others could support Bjartr. He didn’t want to, but it was better than being sheep led to the slaughter. The gods had truly abandoned them.
‘I am sending my younger sister and steward to court.’ She pressed her hands together, but not before Moir noticed a slight tremor. ‘Your weapons and your brooches will prove your identity. Elene can hire guards from the new Mercian King who will then escort you back to court. A prisoner exchange, I believe it is called.’
Moir revised his opinion on their luck. The gods had smiled on them finally. Perhaps Thor with his thunder was signalling his approval. Perhaps his ordeal was about to end and he could finally regain his family’s honour, the honour his father had thrown away when he’d abandoned his men all those years ago. He frowned and silenced the hope.
Right now, all he knew was that Lady Ansithe was a woman who would listen and make up her own mind. ‘What swayed you?’
‘Guthmann cut off Leofwine’s finger when he could have simply taken the ring off it and sent it. He is even likely to say that you are worthless just to be contrary.’
‘He could do.’
‘I had to consider it. And who my true opponent is.’
He gestured to the men. They unfastened their brooches and dropped them into a pile one by one.
He carefully undid Palni’s, wiped the dirt from it and put on the top of the pile, alongside his. She stooped to pick them up.
‘And your men? Are they truly improving? I could examine them again.’
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