Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(17)

Though we both shared the same narrow build and thin features, his hair was lighter and his eyes a fairer blue than mine. He may have been handsome at one time, but the years of heavy imbibing had taken a toll.

He scowled at me. “Where are you going with such haste?”

I intended to return to the great hall and gather the fare I hadn’t eaten, but telling Bernhard so would only arouse his suspicion. “Torvald and I are making ready to head out.”

“And where will your little search take you today?”

I resented his condescending tone, one that indicated he thought we were on a futile mission to find the chalice. If only we could have kept our business private as we had in the beginning. But with the weeks turning into months, more and more people had discovered we were seeking the chalice at the request of King Ansgar.

On the one hand, the openness of our quest had provided more clues as people came forward to give us hearsay or tips. On the other hand, we feared the renewed interest in the chalice had spurred others into hunting for it too. While we hadn’t told anyone about the chalice’s potential to heal, it was possible others already knew, and we didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands—thieving gangs who might demand a high price in exchange for the relic, Ice Men who had threatened Queen Lis last autumn, or perhaps even spies working for King Canute.

We didn’t think Rasmus was involved. The former Royal Sage hadn’t been seen since he’d left Vordinberg after his scheming to harm King Ulrik and use the Sword of the Magi to put someone of his choosing on the Norvegian throne.

At first, we’d suspected Rasmus was hiding in Norvegia and was perhaps still plotting to take the throne from Ansgar. But over recent weeks since the ports had begun to open, we’d heard rumors Rasmus was in Swaine and had offered his wisdom to King Canute.

Whatever the case might be, Torvald and I had to find the chalice before anyone else did and especially before we were called away to fight another battle against King Canute.

“We are interviewing more priests at the abbey today.” I offered Bernhard my standard answer. So far, we’d learned the chalice had been stored in the Stavekirche for a number of years, but that at some point it had been moved. The question was whether it had been moved within Romsdal or elsewhere in Norvegia. Our hope was that one of the priests might be able to provide information to point us in the right direction.

“Did Father ever mention the chalice being in Romsdal?” I asked. If it had ever been in his safekeeping, what had he known about it? Had he guessed that it had the power to bring about healing?

Bernhard finished a noisy yawn. “He never spoke of it to me.”

“What about our grandfather Jorg?” I’d never met our grandfather, but Bernhard had been a lad when Grandfather was still alive. “Did he have any tales of the relic?”

“None that I remember.” His tone took on a bored note, and he started on his way, obviously finished with the conversation.

Our grandfather had been as renowned for his cruelty as our father. Apparently Jorg had only become the earl because his older brother Sven had died in a fire.

“Is it possible they would have stored it in the chapel here?”

“No, it’s not here.” Bernhard stopped, and his statement came out much too rapidly, containing an edge that almost sounded like a warning.

“I didn’t think it was.” I shrugged and started on my way now too, needing him to think I believed him. “If so, you would have found it by now.”

Even as I projected a carefree spirit, my mind was already at work, piecing together Bernhard’s reaction. Although he’d invited us to stay at Likness Castle, his response just now revealed that he felt threatened by the search. Perhaps he knew where the chalice was or already had it in his possession. Perhaps he hoped that by entertaining Torvald and me, he could distract us and keep us from prying too deeply.

Bernhard didn’t linger in the passageway but hurried away. I did likewise and entered the great hall, returning to the table where I’d left my unfinished platter.

I had to find a way to explore the castle and talk to the servants without Bernhard being the wiser. The question was how?





Chapter

7





Mikaela


“Enok is growing impatient,” Kirstin said softly as she finished scraping the last drop of pottage from the bowl.

“Tell him that soon enough we’ll have plenty.” I drew my cloak closer against the morning chill and pressed my stomach. I couldn’t chance my sister hearing the rumbles of hunger lest she refuse to take the bundle of food home to the others. The only reason she ate the pottage was because she assumed it was an extra and didn’t know it was mine.

But the cook, under strict guidelines from the castle steward, only allowed each of us a certain portion of food every day. I understood. If he didn’t ration, then servants would take freely to give to their families, many of whom were suffering just like mine.

“He’ll sneak away one night while we’re asleep.” Kirstin ran her finger over the bottom of the bowl. “And when we awaken, we’ll find that he’s gone to the earl and pledged to kill the jotunn.”

At seventeen, our younger brother was volatile and impetuous. I feared he would run off to fight the jotunn more than I feared Frans would. I stuck my hand in my pocket and fingered the special shell, and my thoughts turned to Maiken’s death. How could we bear another loss? “You can’t let him.”