second it would be over. She tightened her grip, trying to strengthen her nerve. He was one of them—a Norman! She hated them! She should seize this opportunity, should avenge her people while she had the chance.
Except... It was too brutal, too barbaric. She couldn’t do it. Not like this—not with him offering her the knife as if it were some kind of favour. If she did she’d be no better than a Norman.
She shook her head, turning the hilt back towards him, feeling as if she’d both passed and failed the same test.
‘Good.’ He took the knife and stowed it away quickly. ‘I have enough on my own conscience, Lady Cille. I’ve no wish to be a burden on yours.’
She stared miserably at the ground, hardly noticing as he took up her reins, leading her towards the gate. Somehow the world seemed to have shifted beneath her. She felt numb and weary and overwhelmingly tired. She’d failed. At the moment of crisis she’d failed her people. And yet she couldn’t help but feel that he’d been right. What good would it have done?
‘I don’t have to be your enemy, Lady Cille. Believe it or not, I’ve no more wish to see bloodshed than you do.’
‘No?’ She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. From what she’d heard about Normans, she found that hard to believe.
‘No. I wouldn’t have harmed your sister’s people. You shouldn’t have sent them away.’
She looked up at him sharply. ‘How could I have known that?’
‘You couldn’t. But what kind of life did you think you were sending them to? Do you know what the King does to rebels?’
Her scalp tightened. ‘I’ve heard rumours.’
‘Believe them. And how far do you think they’ll get without provisions? They haven’t brought in the harvest yet. What are they going to eat?’
‘They’ll survive.’
‘Will they?’ His voice hardened. ‘How?’
She twisted towards him, battling a tidal surge of panic. ‘What if they come back? What if I go after them, persuade them to return?’
‘Too late. My orders are to return you to Redbourn as soon as possible. Besides, if the King ever hears that they ran he’ll tear down the village, destroy their tools and poison the earth. Etton will be naught but a ruin. Trust me—I’ve seen it.’
Aediva gaped at him in horror. How could he describe such an event so calmly? It was horrific! And it would all be her fault. She was the one who’d sent them away. She’d been trying to protect them, but she’d sent them to their destruction instead. The pit in her stomach was so deep she felt as though it were swallowing her up from the inside.
‘So they’re doomed either way?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘Henri went after them this morning. He speaks some English and he knows what to say. If anyone can persuade them to come back, it’s him.’
‘You did that?’ She sagged forward, breathless with relief. ‘Why?’
‘Why wouldn’t I? I told you—I don’t believe in revenge.’
‘And you won’t tell the King?’
‘No.’
‘What if someone else does?’
‘Who? My men know better than to spread rumours. Unless you’re planning to?’
She shook her head vehemently and he gave a dismissive shrug.
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Nothing to worry about?’ Anger took over again. ‘Then why did you scare me like that? How could you be so cruel?’
‘Because you need to understand what you’re dealing with! You can’t go to Redbourn and threaten the Earl. You can’t speak of rebellion so lightly. Whether you like it or not, Lady Cille, the conquest is over and we have won. And I’m not your enemy—not unless you want me to be.’
He spurred his destrier forward then, cantering away as she stared helplessly after him, trying to make sense of her jagged emotions as they veered from anger to gratitude and back again. She was still furious, but if he’d sent Henri to rescue her people then she was in his debt too. Indebted to a Norman! The very idea made her blood run cold. How would she ever repay him? How could she repay a Norman?
She sat completely still, looking around at the narrow confines of her world, at the village and the valley where she’d spent most of her life. Etton and England would never be the same again. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, but it was true. The Conquest was over and the Normans had won. Even if she came back—even if her people came back—nothing would ever be the same again.
And if Svend du Danemark wasn’t her enemy, who was he?
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