The Betrothed Sister by Carol McGrath Read Free Book Online

with her veil. For a moment, Thea thought her grandmother had lost her wits and her sense. Surely Grandmother did not trust him after all.
    Sweyn said, ‘No need for sorrow today. You are safe here, Aunt Gytha, and look, I have a wagon for your comfort.’ He swirled around, fleet of foot for such a large man and pointed to the elaborate cart where the dwarf sat on its driving platform watching their exchange, his small eyes blinking at them. Sweyn’s hands flew opened in an elaborate gesture, ‘Come, ladies.’
    After he had ushered them towards the cart and helped them and their two women climb on board, he turned to Godwin and Edmund. ‘We spotted the Wave-Prancer and the Sea-Dragon from the high rooms of my palace. Soon enough messengers rode up from the port to confirm that you were back.’ He clapped his great hands together and looked over at some merchants who were clearly half-listening as they finished checking the unloading of barrels. ‘Now let us be gone where we can talk without being overheard by flapping great ears.’ He glared at the merchants. How quickly his facial expressions change, thought Thea uneasily.
    Godwin hesitated. ‘I need to finish securing the ships first. Padar will escort my mother and sister.’ Padar bowed to the king, who slapped him heartily on the back. ‘Good to see you back safely, Padar; you little cat with many lives.’
    Padar said, ‘A cat that moves silently if he scents danger.’
    Sweyn frowned and muttered, ‘No fool there.’ Turning to Godwin, he nodded. ‘As you wish and I shall send carts down from the palace for the weapons and your luggage. I expect the ladies travelled light. We can feed and clothe you all here. My new queen, Elizaveta, will see to that.’ With those words, he swung back up onto his stallion.
    Padar grabbed his pack from the ground where he had dropped it and climbed up onto the richly decorated royal wagon beside the dwarf. With a crack of a silver-headed whip the little man with the reins manoeuvred the wagon around with ease and they were off.
    The air in the women’s room was thick with chatter. This room took up the upper floor of the sea-side palace and pleasantly looked out to sea. For two long days Thea had sat quietly close to a window with a table napkin poised on her lap. She was bored with stitching it. Tired of the sewing and the sound of women’s constant voices ringing in her ears, she watched out of the window, looking for ships sailing into port, rarely speaking unless spoken to.
    Occasionally Gudrun, who had become her obedient shadow, helped her select threads for the napkin that she was embroidering with wool in garish bright colours that the Danes seemed to favour. She longed for the delicacy of silk and the precious silver and gold embroidery threads she had used in England.
    In the centre of the group of women sat Ingegerd, a sharp-faced young woman who was Harald Harthrada’s daughter and recently both Sweyn’s stepdaughter and his daughter-in-law. In the year following her father’s death at Stamford Bridge, Ingegerd had married Olaf, one of Sweyn’s many sons. Shortly after, her mother, Elizaveta, who was also Harthrada’s widow, had married King Sweyn. Elizaveta and Ingegerd had travelled to Denmark from Norway after the defeat at Stamford Bridge. It had long been rumoured that Elizaveta had disliked her Norwegian marriage and was not sorry to be rid of her berzerker husband, King Harald. That bit of tittle-tattle had even reached Exeter. Thea believed it. Elizaveta had been particularly kind and welcoming to the Godwin exiles. Not so her daughter. Thea felt that Ingegerd, who always looked so haughtily at her, would never warm to them. Nor could Thea warm to Ingegerd, but she determined to rise above the slights, and slights there were, but then Thea thought maybe Ingegerd had her reasons.
    Ingegerd’s father, King Harald of