Cursed in the Blood: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery by Sharan Newman Read Free Book Online Page A

with Hengst and Horsa,” he said. “But I suspect there’s a bit of Danish in us, too. We’ve lived in the North several generations now.”
    Solomon took a strip of eel and lowered it into his mouth. “Can’t understand why Catherine’s so ill,” he said. “We come from a long line of Saracen pirates.”
    There was a silence from the sailors as they studied Solomon’s dark features. Solomon grinned at them wickedly and Edgar rolled his eyes. At last the captain decided it was a joke and they all laughed.
    “We don’t get Saracens much in the North Sea,” he said. “But there are still Danes who roam the coasts, especially north of the Humber. They haven’t forgotten Viking ways.”
    “I’ve seen them in the east, sailing up the Dnieper,” Solomon told them, serious now. “They aren’t too fond of other traders. Board, steal, kill and sink seems to be their general strategy.”
    The captain agreed. “But we’ve had no trouble with them so far this year. Perhaps they decided that they had plundered Northumbria to the bone or maybe King David’s justice has finally reached them. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful. We have a steady supplier in Wearmouth who saves the best of the skins for us. He’s even promised a brace of hunting dogs that I can sell at a fine profit in Bouillon. I may be able to put out two boats by next Saint John’s Eve.”
    He paused and gave them a nervous glance. “Forgive my blether,” he added quickly. “I know men like you have no interest in trade, unless you hold the tithes for some seaport. If you do, forget everything I just said. Trade is terrible. The sea takes most of what I earn.”
    He regarded them with suspicion. Edgar laughed.
    “Do I look like an abbot?” he asked. “Or an earl? We’re lucky in my family if we can collect the cornage and have enough left over for conveth when the king comes visiting.”
    “Ah, yes. There’s a lot of you like that now,” the captain said. “The North’s full of Saxon lords trying to hold on to what they can all the while hunting for a rich marriage with one of the Normans’ daughters.”
    Edgar tensed.
    “Our family doesn’t have to marry to reclaim our own land,” he said.
    Beside him Robert wiggled uncomfortably. Edgar looked at him.
    “Are you ill, Brother?” he asked.
    Robert was mildly queasy but he shook his head.
    “You needn’t take offense so quickly,” he told Edgar. “The man didn’t mean it as an insult.”
    “Of course not!” The captain was surprised. “I’d rather earn my land in a warm bed than in a battle any day, even if the woman were covered in warts and had the breath of a goat.”
    “A noble aspiration, sir.” Robert passed him the beer jug. “I drink to your success.”
    The captain grinned and took the jug. “Wœs hael!” He gestured at them all, then upended the jug so that the beer poured into his mouth and overflowed to dribble through his beard.
    When they were alone again, Edgar turned on Robert.
    “How can you take that slander so lightly?” he demanded.
    Robert shook his head in disbelief.
    “What slander?” he asked. “Marriage has always been the best source of land and of assuring oneself of allies. Because you went mad and took a wife with no relatives who know how to fight, do you think everyone else should follow your example? If everyone married where their heart lay, what would happen to families? We’d soon all be left with nothing more than a toft on a hillside, too rocky even for sheep.”
    “That isn’t what we were taught, Robert,” Edgar muttered.
    “Things have changed,” Robert told him shortly. “You’ll find that out soon enough.”
    Edgar didn’t answer but stared out at the water, empty as far as the horizon, where a smudge of grey clouds was forming. He shivered. Once again he regretted letting himself be talked into this journey. Only his fear for Catherine’s and James’s safety could have done it.
    It was so peaceful on the water.