Eirik saw that Eadyth was still asleep, though she tossed restlessly. No doubt troubled by her latest deceits, Eirik thought. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and slouched down with outstretched legs crossed At the ankles, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth.
He could not see her very well in the dim light, just the outlines and shadowy curves of her nude body barely covered by the bed linens. For once, he was not tempted—not by the exceedingly long legs, or the curve of her breasts, not even by the enticing mole above her lips. All he saw when he looked at his wife was deceit.
How will I ever be able to live with a woman who lies as often as she breathes? In truth, can I live with her at all now?
“Eirik?” Eadyth said tentatively as she opened her eyes sleepily and sat up in the bed. Drawing the sheet up over her breasts, she tossed her mane of silver hair over her shoulders. “You never came back to bed,” she rebuked him in a trembling voice.
He said nothing, just stared at her, trying to understand her devious mind.
“Eirik, come to bed. Please.”
“I will never lie with you again, Eadyth,” he said, marveling that he could speak so calmly in spite of his fury.
She gasped and made a small whimpering sound.
“Unless you tell me the truth,” he continued in a steely voice. And mayhap not even then, he added to himself.
She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth in misery, but would not speak. In fact, she bit her bottom lip as if to prevent the words from spilling out.
His desolate spirits sank even lower.
When she finally opened her eyes, he saw that they were filled with tears, pleading. He was not moved.
“I love you,” she said in a small voice.
He stood and stared at her in icy contempt. “I do not care.” God help me, I wish that were so. He threw the package of fabric Jeremy had given him on the bed. “Here. This just arrived for you.”
Eadyth gazed at the linen parcel in horror and shoved it away from her. It fell down to the rushes. Then she began to keen loudly, “Oh, nay, please, do not let it be so. Oh, God, ’tis only the second day. Oh, God—
“Bloody Hell, Eadyth, what ails you? ‘Tis just the fabric you ordered from Jorvik. Jeremy brought it.” He looked down at her with puzzlement. “What did you think it was—a shroud?”
Her violet eyes, misted with tears, blinked in confusion. “Fabric?” When she finally understood, Eadyth put her hand over her heart as if to still its wild beating. Then she pressed her lips together tightly and defiantly refused to answer his question.
Crushed by the defeat of Eadyth’s silence, Eirik stalked over to the door and slammed it loudly behind him. Sigurd and Tykir were waiting for him in the hall.
“Good news finally, Eirik,” Tykir informed him. “Earl Orm sent a message. We now know Gravely’s hiding place in Northumbria… for a certainty. ‘Tis a small manor about two hours from here, near Lord Cyril’s estates.”
Eirik closed his eyes and gave silent thanks that he might catch the evil Gravely at last. Nothing else in his life was going right. At least he would get this satisfaction.
“With any luck, we will find Godric at the same time,” Sigurd said. They all nodded in agreement.
Wilfrid rushed up to Eirik then. “My lord, come at once. You will not believe what I have found.”
“I have no time—”
“Believe me, Eirik, you have time for this.”
Eirik ordered Tykir and Sigurd to ready their horses. “I will join you shortly.” Then he followed after his seneschal, grumbling about the wasted time. They went through the kitchen and out to the courtyard, ignoring the working servants, who stared at them with curiosity. When they got to Eadyth’s crude shed for making mead, Wilfrid opened the door with a flourish.
Eirik’s mouth gaped open with surprise.
A pile of bloody bones lay on the floor in the center next to the still. All kinds of bones—cow legs, cattle shoulder bones, the hipbone of a sheep, what appeared to be a pig’s skull, eyeballs… eyeballs! They were piled almost waist high and beginning to emit a rank odor.