Free Lady of the Lake by Elizabeth Mayne Page B

should have kept, for it was her labor at overseeing all the work that accomplished any gain.
    “The kings’ wergild takes some getting used to,” Embla granted. “The truth is it has little effect in a frontier where Watling Street peters out in yon miserable haunted wood. King Guthrum thinks his road an open avenue from London to Chester, but north of Warwick it comes to naught. As for the Mercians, they stay out of my way or else pay dearly for entering Warwick.”
    “These men—” Edon pointed to the pit “—are Mercians paying your dear price?”
    “Aye. A pity they are so weak they die quickly. But there is a goodly supply, for they breed endlessly and are stupid as horses. My patrols easily replenish their numbers.”
    “Pray tell me what you do with women so foolish as to walk on Watling Street?”
    Embla answered his appalled question without batting an eye. “There is work in the kitchens and at the looms or at whatever task they are assigned. I have found it expedient to give my thanes free use of captured Mercian women. It keeps them better controlled, and I have heard no complaints from my soldiers regarding that.”
    “No, I imagine you haven’t,” Edon murmured. “I can’t help but remark upon the fact that I saw no Mercian farmsteads as I crossed the shire. There were as many Mercians as Saxons here when last I visited. Danes were the oddity. I had to pay a very high price to acquire the rights to Warwick Hill.”
    “Only Danes may be tenants in the Danelaw, my lord. That is Guthrum’s law.”
    Edon thought it pointless to discuss Guthrum’s law with this wife of his nephew. Her interpretation and his would never match. “I suggest we table a discussion of politicsuntil evening. Nothing is to be changed until I have toured the tin and silver mines. We will do that tomorrow.”
    Edon met Rig on his way down from the quarry. His general’s face was twisted with anger, his large jaw thrust forward. Edon could tell he was grinding his teeth to keep from cursing a blue streak. Edon dismounted and handed Titan’s reins to a stable boy. “What has happened? Don’t spare me the news.”
    “The village of Wootton is on fire.” Rig answered in a clipped voice. A fire of a different sort burned in his cool blue eyes.
    “How so?” Edon asked, tamping down the alarm that started in his chest. Tala was at Wootton…in Mother Wren’s cottage.
    “I went to fetch the atheling as you commanded, lord.” Rig spun on one heel and pointed to a group of four Vikings leaning on their axes in the shade of the ironmonger’s shed. Their faces were contorted with anger, matching Rig’s. “They went to Wootton to cut wood, against your command of this morn.”
    “What of Mother Wren?” Edon asked, feeling a chill squeeze his heart Tala would have been sleeping in Wren’s cottage.
    “Asgart claims the villagers fled into the forest They captured none of them, not even the old woman.”
    That bit of good news relieved Edon’s worries somewhat. Then Rig squared his shoulders and gave him the rest of his news. “The cottage where you left the princess of Leam in the care of the old woman was empty when I got to Wootton to inspect the fire’s damage. There was no proof that anyone was living in that abode.”
    “What?” Edon said, confused.
    “I found a chest containing the lady’s clothing, and her jewels among the smoking ashes, lord. I have put it in your keep. But that was all I found worth retrieving. There wereno furnishings or cooking pots or beds of any kind. I fear you have been tricked, lord. The princess of Leam does not live in the village of Wootton.”
    “Humph!” Edon grunted as he crossed the ward to the ironmaster’s shed. So much for his plan of visiting his bride in the evening ahead. The little minx had done him in. He turned his thoughts to the problem of the burned village and the Vikings who’d disobeyed his orders. Tala would have to wait.
    The Vikings were newcomers to