"Elspeth has disappeared."
It could not be so. They'd slept in the same bed. She would have known because she was the one who did not fall deeply asleep; she was the one who woke at any noise.
Unless something had caused her to do otherwise? Margriet looked around the room and saw the cup on the small table next to the bed.
"When did you see her last, Sister?"
"Last night. After you left, I spoke to her about Sven and … Did you ask Sven about her?"
The stern expression warned her of his answer before he spoke the words. "He is missing as well."
"Rurik! We must find them," she cried out. Grabbing the end of the blankets, she needed to get out of bed and dress so they could search. "I beg you to move so I can rise."
He did not heed her, but stayed where he was. "Did you hear anything? Anyone else in the room? Anything amiss."
Margriet sat back and thought about Elspeth's behavior. "She was crying when I finished speaking to her, but then she offered me a draught that Thora sent up. To make me stronger."
"A sleeping draught, I fear, so that you would miss her departure," he offered. "I suspect that Thora knows not of it."
He stood then, and pointed to the gown thrown over the chair. "Dress and come down and we can decide what to do next."
She did not know which surprised her more-that he did not question her involvement or that he was about to include her in his decisions about how to proceed. "We?"
"I learned at our first encounter that it is better to work with you than against. And, truth be told, you demonstrated that you can think clearly when everyone was taken ill. I could not have managed all of them without your knowledge and hard work."
Speechless for the first time in so long, Margriet fell back against the headboard and just looked at him. The good sisters complimented her occasionally, but the thrill of this one, that he thought highly of her abilities, warmed her heart. 'Twas only sad that it came at such a time as this.
"Now, dress and come down. I will have Thora prepare you something to eat and drink and I will watch her do it to be certain it contains nothing else." He stood and left without looking at her.
"Rurik," she called before the door could close completely.
He stopped and waited for her to speak, half in and half out of the room.
"Will he … will he … she is … " She could not say the words she was thinking, but he understood her mumbled words.
"He is a man of honor who would never take advantage of a holy innocent."
He used that tone that men did when they were completely convinced of a thing. Such as honor. The tone that warned her from arguing-nay, from even thinking for a moment-that he was not correct about his friend and his honor. Rurik's faith in his friend was only undermined by one small thing that was unknown to him when he made that declaration.
Elspeth was not a holy innocent and neither was she. Although Elspeth certainly was an innocent, she was neither. And being the sinner she knew herself to be, Margriet could not admit this all to Rurik. So, she reasoned, Elspeth was safe with Sven so long as Sven believed her to be a nun. Margriet could not think beyond that now.
He looked at her as though waiting for any other concern to be voiced and then, with a nod, strode from the room and pulled the door closed behind him. With nothing else to say, Margriet lost no time in following his instructions and within minutes entered the common room where Rurik waited. She walked in to hear Harald and Thora's denials of their involvement in either the drugging of Sister Margriet or helping Sven and Sister Elspeth to leave unnoticed.
"I will burn this place to the ground if I find you are lying to me, Harald." Margriet was tempted to ask if that was his method of dealing with problems, but held her tongue. He turned as she approached. "Thora swears she sent no draught to you last evening, Sister."
"It seems that Elspeth had her mind set on this."
"I canna believe that she would run off wi' him," Thora sobbed into a piece of linen. "A nun, no less! A holy sister! An innocent led into debauchery … "
'Twas then that Rurik stopped her with a look. Harald assured him once more that they knew nothing and dragged his wife back toward the kitchen. When they had gone, he moved a bench out so she could sit. Only he, Leathen and Donald remained with her.
"The men?"
"I sent two out in each direction leading away from the village to see if they could find evidence of their path." He paused and stared at their small group. "I wanted to keep this discussion to only this number," he said. "'Tis a matter best handled with discretion."
"Why would Sven take her away, Rurik?"
"Why would she leave with him, Sister?"
She was torn between telling him the truth and keeping it to herself. There was a part she could share.
"She believed he loved her."
Rurik's gaze faltered for a moment, but the other two were frank in their disbelief.
"He would never dishonor her in that way, Sister," Donald argued. "Never."
"I have known him since the time we were we'ans, Sister. He has respect for the church and all that belongs to it," Rurik added.
Leathen shook his head so hard, Margriet thought it would loosen from his neck.
"And if she was not a nun? Would he hold her in respect then?"
The only sound in the room was the fire crackling in the hearth. She was convinced they'd even stopped breathing at her disclosure. In truth, she could not believe she'd said it aloud.
"Not a nun?" Leathen repeated the words as though she'd said them in Greek instead of Gaelic.
"Get out," Rurik ordered. "Say nothing about this to any of the others, especially not those from Orkney."
Donald and Leathen were quick on their feet when they wanted to be and her words coupled with Rurik's order gave them cause to move. The silence was harsher still when it was only the two of them.
"I am waiting to hear your explanation, Sister? How is Sister Elspeth not a nun?"
He leaned back and watched her with such a dangerous air that she feared revealing even part of the truth. With one ankle resting on the other knee, he sat waiting. She would rather deal with an angry Rurik, such as the one who stood outside the convent gates, than this quietly deadly one.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out the first time. Or the second. It struck her that fear was a powerful silencer. As though he was being kind, Rurik reached out, poured some ale into a cup and handed it to her.
"Pardon my inhospitality, Sister. I forgot you have not broken your fast yet this morn. Should I call Thora for some bread and cheese?"
She drank some ale down in one gulp, but there would be no way to make food get down her throat now. Not with the way he glared at her across the table. Not with the way danger rolled off of him in waves, like the musk of a predator. Not when he repeatedly clenched and relaxed both his jaws and his fists.
"Nay," she cried out. "I need no food. Only ale."
He lifted the metal pitcher as though it were empty and filled her cup once more. "Enough?" he asked in a quiet voice that set her nerves on edge.
Margriet sipped from the cup and nodded, trying to formulate an answer to his question.
"Now, explain to me how she is not a nun?"
His foot bobbed now, rising and dropping in time with some internal measure. His jaw still twitched, but he had opened his hands and placed them on the table in front of her. It made her more nervous.
"We feared for her safety," she said.
"We?"
"Mother Ingrid and I. When you and your men showed up at the convent making demands and yelling and scaring everyone with your … "
She would have continued, but now his eyebrow began to carry on the same twitching movement that hers did when she was tense. Knowing what it meant forced her to stop making excuses.
"When Elspeth offered to travel with me, Mother and I thought the habit would protect her against 'the ravenous hungers that men experience,' as Mother described it."
She would swear he fought a smile just then, but no one would describe the expression on his face as a smile.
"So, instead of relying on my honor and that of my men's as I swore it to you, and on your father's wisdom in making the choice of who would escort you home, you decided a piece of clothing would protect the girl?"
"Not just a piece of clothing, Rurik, a nun's habit. Men behave differently around one."