Undercurrent (29 page)

Alarik returned no greetings as he marched through the camp. No time for banter now. Though he’d been up the whole night thinking, Ragnar’s words fueled an onslaught of more thoughts. He couldn’t stay here, but neither would he leave. So he ascended the trail to the council grounds, one determined step in front of the other. By the time he reached the top, sweat tickled down his back despite the cool autumn morn.

No one stood inside the half circle of rocks yet. No council members sat cross-legged on the slabbed rock platform. He was alone. More so than ever before.

His boots kicked up little dirt clouds as he tromped forward. He stopped five paces from where the lawgiver would soon speak, then raised a fist to the iron sky and shouted. “What do you want of me? Do you hear me? I can bear no more.”

Spent, he dropped to his knees. Gravel bit through the worn fabric of his breeches. The sting hardly compared to the anguish in his soul, like a noose cinching tighter with each breath, inescapable and unrelenting. All night he’d wrestled, raged against, clashed and assaulted a wraith of hatred, yet somehow…

He’d lost.

“
I can bear no more.” A whisper this time, his voice sounding foreign in his ears.

As much as he wanted to hate Signy for the way she’d bludgeoned his heart, he couldn’t. She’d hurt him deeper and bloodier than any sword thrust, and still he could not find it in him to revile her as he ought. Weakling! He smashed both fists to the ground. What kind of Norseman was he? Nay, he was less than a man, for surely only a fool would love one so unworthy.

“
Stripped of pride, my friend, love will not be stopped, for it does not require payment before spending itself. This is the way of Jesu.”

So clear and loud were Ragnar’s words that Alarik jerked a glance over his shoulder.

A breeze swirled up small dust tempests, but nothing else moved.

“
This is my way.”

He snapped his neck the other direction, but he alone haunted the council grounds.

“
Love is my way.”

Slowly, he returned his eyes to the sky. “Jesu?” For the first time, he didn’t let the name slip past his lips as a jest. “I…”

He lowered his gaze to the ground. Did he really want to do this? He’d witnessed the drastic change in Ragnar over the years. Would he change that much? He swiped his tired eyes with the back of his hand and sighed. Truly, he’d do anything to be rid of the anguish that ate his soul. “Would you show yourself, Jesu, to a man such as me? I am…I have…nothing to offer. Unless you bring peace, I will never know it.”

A sharp kick between his shoulder blades sprawled him face first into the soil. His tooth punctured his lip on impact.

“
You kneel in the dirt, babbling like your worthless cousin. Stand for your judgment like a man.”

Alarik rose with intentional movement, slow and controlled. Turning to Torolf, he saw others filing in. The council would soon begin. In the back, beside a pillar, the cloaked form of a woman stood. Too tall to be Cassie, too familiar to be anyone but—

Suddenly he knew what must be done for Signy’s sake.

Wiping the blood from his lip, he flicked it at Torolf, then faced the platform. From the corner of his eye, he saw Torolf’s hand raised to strike. He dodged the moment before a fist would have dented his skull.

“
Your aim is as polished as ever, eh, Torolf?” Ragnar’s mocking question came from behind as he joined Alarik’s side.

The barbed remark brought a smile to Alarik’s mouth. A smile? Impossible. Nonetheless, though a turmoil of emotions still churned within, certainty of what he must do brought with it an inner calm.

Torolf stiffened, narrowing his eyes to slits. “You are a dead man, Ragnar.” His voice vibrated with rage.

Alarik grunted. “With aim like that, cousin, I would not worry overmuch.” He cast Ragnar a sideways glance, and when their eyes met, he spoke for Ragnar’s ears only. “You were right.”

Ragnar’s brow rose so high and fast, Alarik’s grin widened. ’Twas not easy to astonish the even-keeled Ragnar. He savored the moment for all it was worth, for ’twould likely be the last time.

Ragnar’s mouth opened, but before he could speak, the lawgiver silenced the gathering.

Alarik stepped forward. Nay, he’d been wrong. He would surprise his cousin with one final act. “Lawgiver, I wish to speak, for what I say may render your judgment invalid.”

The lawgiver lifted a hand to still the low whispers traveling like a wave from man to man. “You offer unheard testimony in this matter?”

Alarik paused. Either he turned from this course now or not at all. “Ja.”

Giving in to the urge rushing through him, he cleared his throat. “I will atone for my brother’s death.”

A collective murmur washed across the assembly from front to rear, and he spoke louder that all would heed his next words. “I ask that Rogaland pass to the next rightful heir—Ragnar, Gerlaich’s son.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

“
Nay!”

Ragnar’s and Torolf’s angry cries rang all the way to the back where Cassie stood. Stationing herself at the same boulder as before, she expected another long day of the lawgiver’s droning. She should have asked Ragnar what would happen at this meeting, but he’d seemed so preoccupied. Polite as ever, but…withdrawn. And she hadn’t seen Alarik since yesterday when she’d told him about Signy. Even without an explanation, however, the nervous energy passing from man to man in shifting feet and whispered words warned her this day would be different.

She rose on tiptoes. No good. Wide shoulders and wild hair on the gathered men gave her little more than a view of Viking backsides. From the corner of her eye, movement like a mouse making for cover snagged her attention, and she jerked her head. Signy scurried on silent feet along the edge of the pillars. Where was she going in such a hurry?

Cassie sprinted across the twenty feet of open space to the next pillar and paused. No heads turned her way, nor did Signy glance back to see if anyone followed. Success pushed Cassie to the next pillar. She’d stay far enough behind to keep an eye on Signy, and maybe even get close enough to learn why Ragnar and Torolf yelled.

But Signy and listening lost all value once she gained a clear view of the front. Her mouth dropped. Time took on a maddening slowness. She stood transfixed, watching a macabre scene, unable to move or think.

Two guards gripped Ragnar on either side. Even so, their footing slipped with his powerful lunges. He gained a step, and they yanked him back. As far as she knew, Alarik was the one in trouble with the council, yet nothing restrained him—he walked free.

On the far side of the platform sat a squarish rock, maybe three feet tall. Dark stains dripped down its sides like icing on a cake. Shoulders flung back and head held high, Alarik strode to it. The councilman who’d spoken the day before followed.

Both halted behind the rock. The crowd stilled. Only Ragnar continued his unceasing attempts to break loose. What kind of ceremony was this?

Alarik’s gaze swept the assembly…no, farther, the rear of the gathering close to where she’d been. Did he look for her?

He followed the perimeter with his eyes, pausing for the briefest of moments on her, then locked his eyes at a point just beyond where she stood. Cassie followed his gaze to a cloaked figure—the one she’d trailed.

Signy.

Unable to see Signy’s face in the shadow of her hood, Cassie looked back to Alarik. He knelt, never once varying his focus from Signy. The depth of love shining in his gaze embarrassed Cassie, and Signy gasped loud enough to be heard.

He nodded once, then bent at the waist, laying his head on the rock. Foreboding shivered through Cassie.

The councilman planted his feet just behind and to the side of Alarik. He slid his sword from its sheath, the scrape of steel against leather deafening in the silence.

Cassie’s mouth dried, and her stomach heaved. Surely he wasn’t going to—

The blade lifted high.

Ragnar cried out.

Flashing silver plummeted toward Alarik’s neck.

No! Cassie spun, shutting out the sight. That did nothing, however, to prevent the sickening thwunk of sword against flesh from searing into her senses.

She doubled over and vomited.

Though the guards loosened their grip, Ragnar stood frozen. His cousin. His friend. His blood deepening the stain on the rock. The stunning shock of Alarik’s sacrifice drove away all reason, all thought. His ears buzzed, and he swayed on his feet. The proud, mighty Alarik…

Gone.

His chest tightened, making breathing a chore. Short, choppy puffs were the best he could manage.

The blurred figure of the lawgiver moved into his line of vision. Hard to see with a dam of tears pooling in his eye.

“
Ragnar, Gerlaich’s son.” A voice addressed him, but it sounded so far away. “Rise up.”

Obedience and respect alone compelled him to move to the lawgiver’s side. He blinked, knowing what was to come—and the knowing compounded the sick twisting in his gut.

“
Rogaland”—the lawgiver grabbed Ragnar’s hand and shot it into the air—“I give you your new jarl. Hail, Jarl Ragnar!”

“
Hail, Jarl Ragnar!” The assembly’s roar hardly registered, but he knew he should speak. Everyone expected it. Impossible, though. His tongue would not function while standing on the same platform where men hauled away his cousin’s headless corpse.

Staring out at the crowd, he tried to fathom how men could so easily dismiss Alarik’s death and transfer their allegiance to him. A mystery, incomprehensible and staggering.

He dipped his head in acknowledgement, saying nothing, then stepped down.

His boots barely touched dirt before a wad of spit nailed his cheek. Wiping it off, he looked up into the burning glare of Torolf. Neither spoke.

No need. The threat was clear.

Cassie desperately tried to pretend nothing bad had happened. That everything was just the same as when she woke this morn. The sour taste in her mouth and tears raining down her cheeks were difficult to ignore, but denial was a trait she’d long ago perfected. That Signy had dropped to her knees didn’t help. Neither did the pain etched into Ragnar’s face as he strode toward her.

Horrible, choking sobs started somewhere deep, and she feared she might throw up again. As Ragnar drew near, he opened his arms. With that one, small act, reality crashed through her wall of unbelief.

She plowed into him. His arms wrapped tight, but not tighter than the way she clawed into the back of his tunic. Grabbing big handfuls of the cloth, she held on, squeezing the fabric as if she could wrench some strength from it, from him. “Why? Why!” The voice ripping from her throat couldn’t be hers. She buried her face into Ragnar’s chest and wept.

There’d be no more badgering or provoking, no more smirks or laughs, no more…Alarik. His ready smile, his fiery passion, all gone forever. As much as she’d wanted to leave him behind and be rid of him, now that she’d never see him again, she realized just how much a part of her world he’d become.

Or rather, she’d become of his.

She fought for air. Faster. Harder. Dizzying darkness swirled in from the edges of her vision, and her knees buckled.

“
Cassie!”

Ragnar’s voice startled her eyes wide open. He held her out at arm’s length, his strong grip alone keeping her upright. “Look at me, Cassie. Breathe with me, little one.”

Though everything around his face faded into blackness, she focused on his mouth, watching as he drew in and cast out long, slow breaths. She tried to match pace because he asked it of her, but mostly because she desperately wanted to think of something, anything, other than Alarik.

How long they stood there breathing together, she couldn’t say. An eternity, maybe. As she soaked in his strength and assurance, a slow realization kindled to life within. She would miss Alarik. The raw ache inside would fester for a long time.

But she’d be lost without Ragnar.

Something in Cassie’s gaze changed—drastically—and fear added to a host of other emotions taunting Ragnar. Would she faint even now that her breathing leveled and color returned to her cheeks? “Cassie?”

She blinked and shook her head. A spring of fresh tears shone in her eyes and spilled over.

On impulse, he lifted one hand from her shoulder and wiped them away with his thumb. Would that he could as easily remove the pain from her gaze. If she felt even half of that which devoured him—

Nay. Not now. He could not afford to give in to the debilitating grief that waited in the shadows of his soul, nor wrestle the demons of unanswered questions howling in his mind. This could not be dealt with here and now. He shoved the unendurable torment down. Deep. Time enough later to bring it to the great healer, Jesu.

“
Køm.” He clasped Cassie’s cold hand and led her around the edge of the crowd, taking care to set a pace suitable for her wavering steps. The lawgiver’s voice ebbed and flowed like a tide. Other cases were already being heard and decided upon, but none held any interest for him.

Apparently not for Torolf, either. Ahead, he fairly dragged Signy behind him. Both disappeared down the trail by the time he and Cassie reached the crest.