Page 43 of Summer of the Viking

Valdar drew his sword and held the point of it under the farmer’s chin. ‘Can you prove it? In my country we mark sheep to show which flock belongs to which farmer.’

‘Aye, we do that here and all,’ the woman said.

‘Hush your mouth,’ the man retorted and lifted his fist.

Valdar caught the man’s wrist. ‘No. Your wife has the right to speak her mind without fear.’

‘Lady Alwynn shall hear of this high-handed treatment!’ the man whispered. ‘I promise you. You will be out on your ear for spreading lies about a respected member of the community.’

‘We fetch her together. Owain as well. I presume he knows his sheep when he sees them.’

* * *

‘My lady. This new steward of yours, he is impossible.’ Cleofirth the Plough stormed into the hall, closely followed by Valdar.

Alwynn blinked in surprise to see one of her former tenants visibly upset. Valdar should not have been anywhere near that farm. This was her fault. She had deliberately not been getting involved in his day-to-day activities. She’d hoped that her blood would cool if she avoided him for a few days. ‘What is the problem?’

‘He behaves worse than any Northman.’ Cleofirth threw his hands up in the air. ‘Go on, ask him what he has done. I demand compensation for blackening my good name! Those are my sheep, not Owain’s! There is a simple explanation.’

‘Then why did you hide them behind a secret door in your barn?’ Valdar shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, but his bulk filled the doorway. Her heart did a little leap to see him. ‘It seems odd for a man to hide sheep in a room behind a pile of straw if they belong to him.’

‘It were on account of the Northmen, my lady...’

‘Sheep stealing isn’t one of the crimes I have heard laid at Northmen’s feet before.’ A muscle jumped in Valdar’s cheek. ‘However, I am always willing to learn about these monsters from people who seem to know them so well.’

Alwynn put her sewing down as her maids began to gossip. There was no mistaking Valdar’s sarcastic tone.

Her heart sank. She had given Valdar instructions to go slowly and now this. Sarcasm and accusations of sheep stealing. Cleofirth was one of the most prosperous farmers in the area and had a reputation second to none.

In one way, she had been sorry to sell that particular hide of land. Although he was a good farmer, she had never liked his bluster nor been impressed by the rumours of his heavy fists on his hired hands. But she couldn’t afford to alienate her neighbour’s tenants, plus every time she spoke to Urien, his wife, she spoke of how hard her man worked and how pleased she was to have found him.

Urien had worked at the hall until her marriage and the couple seemed happy enough, despite Urien’s repeated miscarriages and the loss of their baby girl last winter. The familiar hollow opened within Alwynn. She had not been able to find the words to comfort Urien. The last time they’d spoken, the woman had begun sobbing uncontrollably. And after that Alwynn had avoided her.

Cleofirth had assured her that, though his wife was fragile, they did not need any help.

‘What is the precise problem?’ she asked.

‘This farmer believes that he can keep sheep hidden in a secret room behind piles of hay—sheep which most likely belong to one of your farmers—and claim them for his own,’ Valdar answered, crossing his arms. His entire being glowered. ‘I suggested that he might like to take his complaint directly to you, since he doesn’t trust a foreigner to do his job properly.’

Alwynn held out her hands.

‘What would you have me do? Lord Edwin would be the one who would normally handle this type of complaint.’

‘I believe you should come out to the farm and see what is going on. Make up your own mind. We can all look at the markings on the sheep to see who they truly belong to.’

Alwynn tilted her head to one side, confused. ‘Good idea.’

‘This farmer objected although he believes you will back him.’

‘Is this true, Cleofirth?’ A hollow opened within Alwynn. She had been avoiding going out there ever since Urien had lost her baby girl. What could she, a barren woman, say to Urien, who had lost a much-longed-for child?

The man’s ears went red. ‘I may have been a bit hasty in my speech, my lady. No man likes a stranger to question his honour like this here steward is doing. You should have had a steward from around here, one who understands local ways.’

‘My lady’s choice of steward has nothing to do with the sheep that are hidden in the barn!’ Valdar thundered. ‘Will you allow me to look into that storeroom or not? See what else is hidden there?’

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