Free Surrender My Love by Johanna Lindsey Page A

that a truth.

Chapter 9
    K RISTEN WAS IN the stable, readying her white destrier, when the messenger was brought to her. The two men didn’t come near, with the huge animal unrestrained.
    Hers was a horse Royce had found for her when she had laughed so hard at the palfrey he had first given her. But he had to agree she was too big for the small lady’s mount when he saw her on it, so he had brought home the white war-horse, still a young colt and not trained yet for war. Kristen had been able to train him herself, and he made a fine, if overly large, riding horse for her.
    She didn’t want to be bothered with the messenger right now, not recognizing him, so knowing him not to be from Royce, and thereby of no interest to her. It was Royce she was bent on following, and having made up her mind to do so, against his express wishes, she didn’t want to be delayed by something that might demand her time.
    Ivarr and Thorolf were both waiting for her at the gate, already mounted. They had returned just that morning, and having beentold of the rumor that had reached Wyndhurst only yesterday, they were of the same mind as she. She simply could not sit at home and wait while her husband verified if her brother was dead or not.
    That was the rumor that had come to them, and so damned long in the coming that the bishop and his party might have been set upon by thieves no more than a day’s ride northeast of Wyndhurst, and it was possible they were all dead.
    Kristen would not believe it. It was merely a rumor, and not even a sure rumor. Might have been attacked didn’t mean they had been. And although there was usually some small truth to be ferreted out of every rumor, the worst of the rumor was rarely that truth. Selig’s party could have been attacked, aye, but they also could have beat off their attackers and gone on to East Anglia.
    Royce had left immediately at her insistence, to discover what truth there was to find. But in return he demanded she remain behind.
    It had been unreasonable of him to insist on that, just because of that mention of thieves in the area of the “alleged” attack. He knew how she felt about her brother. Once before she had thought him dead, had seen him fall in battle, yet he had survived. She would not think so again without seeing his body. Nor could she just sit here and wait for Royce to return and tell her, especially with the women of her hall all weeping, all mourning Selig already, and infuriating her with their lack of faith.

    Less than a day’s ride on a swift horse, Royce had said. He would be back by this morn, he had said, if he had to ride through the night. But he wasn’t back yet, the morn was long gone, the sun was high overhead, and she was waiting no longer.
    But one of the men had brought this messenger to her. She tried to ignore them. She even began walking her mount out of the stable, putting the large animal between her and them. Her man was persistent.
    “He asks to speak to either you or Lord Royce, milady.”
    She sighed, but didn’t stop when she said, “You told him Royce is not here?”
    “Aye.”
    “Well, neither am I.”
    “’Tis about your brother.”
    It was the messenger who had spoken this time. Kristen came immediately around the horse to confront him. “From where do you come?”
    “Gronwood, south of Bedford.”
    She slashed a hand dismissively at names she didn’t recognize. “Where is that?”
    “In East Anglia.”
    She laughed then, as the meaning of that sank in and relief washed over her. She had told herself that Selig was not dead, but still she had feared. “So he has reached King Guthrum?”
    “I know naught of that. Lady Erika of Gronwood holds him prisoner—”
    Kristen grabbed hold of the front of his tunic, jerking his face close to hers. She was severalinches taller than he was, and likely as strong. He certainly didn’t try to find out by resisting her.
    “Prisoner for what reason?” she demanded.
    “He was caught