"More locks are not the answer. I must be able to trust my people. For that matter, they must be able to trust each other."
"Then we must find who is doing this, assuming it is the same person who destroyed the cloth."
"That seems a fair assumption since we have never had any trouble like this before. I think it unlikely two miscreants would have suddenly appeared here."
So did Rycca but she was at loss where to look for the guilty party. Of the man from Wolscroft she thought she had glimpsed, there was still no sign. Although Dragon had told her it was possible he was seen boarding a ship from Landsende only the day after she thought she saw him. The description was too general to be sure, but even so, he could hardly be responsible for damaging the salt.
There was a question Rycca wanted to ask her husband. It trembled on the very tip of her tongue yet remained unuttered. Instead, she went in search of Magda.
The older woman was in the laundry shed. She looked up when Rycca entered. "My lady?"
They were alone. Even so, Rycca spoke softly. "Magda, I have been wondering, is it possible there is someone here who was… fond of the jarl before he married? Someone who might be resentful that he has taken a wife?"
Magda raised her eyebrows until they almost vanished into her gray hair. "My lady, there are a good many here who were fond of the jarl before he married. Some, not really all that many, might have had more reason to be that way than others. But it was always well understood that if the jarl ever married, it would be because—" She broke off, flushing.
"Because duty compelled him?"
"Yes, my lady, that is so, but it doesn't change the fact that everyone is happy for you and the jarl. Genuinely happy as, if I may be so bold, it is obvious both of you are."
Truth.
Magda meant exactly what she had said. She and everyone else, including the comely young women Rycca had seen occasionally casting wistful looks in Dragon's direction, were glad of the marriage.
Who, then, wanted to discredit Rycca? That the two incidents were aimed at doing exactly that she did not doubt. Both struck at the domestic heart of Landsende, where, as the heavy keys hanging from her belt signified, she was responsible.
She had no answer, only worry, but as a week passed and nothing else happened, her concern eased.
It returned with a rush.
The morning was warm, scented with the ripe perfume of the fields. Insects hummed in the bushes,- gulls circled overhead. Everywhere, the men and women of Landsende were preparing for the harvest with keen anticipation. Their crops were bountiful and they looked forward to reaping the rewards of their hard work these many months.
But not quite yet. Another day, perhaps two, and the timing would be perfect. Until then everyone sought some means to keep occupied, even Dragon.
"Let us ride," he said before he had scarcely opened his eyes to morning's light. He rolled out of bed and, standing beside it, stretched. The sculpted muscles of his back and shoulders flexed powerfully. Rycca watched him with warm appreciation. She would have been content to remain just where she was, especially if he returned, but the thought of galloping over the hills in the fresh youth of day was more than she could resist. Besides, they could always find a secluded spot.
With a grin that matched his own, she darted from the bed and dressed rapidly. They stopped by the kitchen just long enough to snatch a few warm rolls from Magda, who laughed and shooed them on their way. In the stable, Dragon led Grani and Sleipnir from their stalls as Rycca lifted the saddle blankets off the pegs where they were kept. She draped a blanket over each horse while Dragon got the saddles. He lifted them into place and Rycca tightened the cinches and girths.
Outside in the sun, Dragon spoke firmly to Sleipnir. "Now behave yourself." The proud stallion tossed his head but stood rock steady to please his master. He lifted Rycca into the saddle and stood by to be sure she was safely seated, prompting her to roll her eyes and laugh at his caution.
Dragon cast her a chiding look, reached up for Grani's reins, and swung himself into the saddle. Scarcely had he done so than the horse let out a high-pitched scream that split the air. Grani's ears went up as his head went down. He bucked hard and frantically, clawing the air with his rear legs, then landed hard on all four hooves and took off at a furious gallop across the yard, through a gate, and out onto the training field. Through all this, Dragon managed to stay on him even as he struggled to calm the mighty horse. Horrified, Rycca spurred Sleipnir to follow even as others began running toward the field to see what was happening.
Grani tore around the field, never slowing despite Dragon's strong hands on the reins. He bucked several more times yet his master remained rock steady. The horse raced toward the line of trees at the far end of the field, gathering speed with every moment until he was almost upon them. Suddenly, without warning, he dug his hooves into the dirt and came to a violent, bone-wrenching stop. The change in momentum was too much. Despite all his strength and skill, Dragon was thrown straight over the horse's head and flung to the ground.
Rycca screamed. She drew rein close to him and threw herself from Sleipnir's back onto her knees beside Dragon, frantically reaching for him. Her horror redoubled when she saw how perilously close his head had come to striking a rock nearby.
"Dragon! My lord… oh, please, wake up—speak to me! Don't you dare just lie there!" Tears all but blinded her and slid unheeded down her ashen cheeks. Clasping his shoulders, she tried to lift him. "Please… wake up… don't—"
He was too heavy, she couldn't budge him. And he just lay there, his eyes closed, all the life seemingly gone from him. A sob broke from her. She grabbed hold of his tunic and pulled so hard that the sturdy cloth came close to rending. "Don't you dare! You can't be hurt! Think of all the battles you've been through, all the adventures! Are you going to let a horse you don't even
like
do this to you?"
One eye opened and looked at her balefully. "Would it be better somehow if I did like him?"
Rycca gave a shriek of delight and threw her arms around Dragon's neck, damn near choking him. By the time he managed to disentangle himself, his vision had cleared enough to see that his wife was crying and laughing at the same time. That rather pleased him.
"It's all right," he said gruffly. "I'm fine. Only let me get up."
"Careful," Rycca admonished and stood by to help him. "Here, put your weight on me."
Dragon started to laugh and thought better of it when he realized his head was pounding. "Lady, if I do that, I will crush you." Wincing, he got to his feet. Only then did he and Rycca see the large crowd of people gathered around them in the field. Observing their lord to have survived his misadventure, they sent up a cheer.
The jarl of Landsende, heartily embarrassed to find himself in such a position, managed a wave and a wan smile for his people before turning his attention to Grani. The horse stood nearby, his reins held by Magnus, who had retrieved him.
"Is he hurt?" Dragon asked.
Magnus shook his head. "I don't think so, lord. He seems perfectly calm now." Indeed, even as they watched, Grani began nibbling at the grass.
"Mayhap he was stung by a bee," Rycca suggested. "I had that happen one time. The horse I was on took off just like Grani did."
"I'll wager you stayed on his back," Dragon muttered.
"No, actually I didn't. Nor did I get up as quickly as you have."
That soothed her lord's pride but only a little. He hurt all over, not that he was about to admit it. Moreover, he too had seen the rock and realized how very near he had come to serious injury. But mostly he was gripped by the quicksilver memory, ever repeating, of how it had felt to fall from that height.
It had not been pleasant.
"Let's get him back to the stable," Dragon said. "I want to take a close look at him."
There, in the light streaming through the open windows into the stall, he found the burrs. They were under the saddle blanket, six in all, clustered close together. The kind of needle-sharp burrs that grew on wild vines. Dragon touched his finger to one and watched the drop of crimson blood that quickly formed.
"I don't understand," Rycca said. She had climbed onto the railing around the stall so that she could look over Dragon's shoulder. "The blankets are always well shaken and brushed."
"You saw nothing of these when you put this on Grani?" Dragon asked.
"Of course not. If I had, I would have used a different blanket."
He nodded, looking again at the blanket. The burrs were toward the center, just where they would need to be to take the full force of his weight and cut into the horse with what must have been terrible pain. There was an outside chance that a single burr might have been blown onto the blanket while it was being aired. But a half-dozen placed so deliberately had to have been done on purpose.
The stable was rarely unoccupied. Even when the horses were being ridden or were grazing in the fields, there were always stalls and tack to be cleaned. Yet in the midst of such activity, only an unfamiliar face was likely to be noticed. Anyone well known, often seen in the stable, would pass by easily.
Rycca spent a great deal of time in the stable.
The moment the thought occurred to Dragon he put it from his mind firmly. It was ridiculous. First, he had absolutely no reason to think she would want to do him harm. Second, if she had put the burrs on the blanket, why would she have then put the blankets on the horses? Surely she would have tried to avoid suspicion by having someone else do that task.
Unless she feared that someone else might notice the burrs.
Mayhap he had hit his head after all. He shook it angrily, heedless of the pain that heightened. Grani needed care. His hide was cut where the burrs had dug in.
Rycca loved horses, Dragon reminded himself. He could not believe she would ever cause one to be hurt deliberately.
But she would know the hurt would not be lasting, that it would pass quickly.
"Here," Rycca said and held out a small stone jar.
"What is that?" Caught still in his unwelcome thoughts, he spoke more harshly than he'd intended.
She seemed not to notice. "Salve for Grani."
Dragon nodded. He took the jar from her and saw to the horse's care, glad of something to do that at least for a short time silenced the wayward voice in his mind.
When he was done, he lingered, checking the horse over very carefully. Grani showed no sign of further damage. But he did seem to understand that something had happened for he butted and nuzzled at Dragon even more than usual.
"It's all right, boy," Dragon said as he stroked his mane. "You weren't to blame and there's no lasting damage to either of us."
"Thank God for that," Rycca said with every evidence of sincerity. She had lingered in the stall, watching her husband care for the horse. Her eyes looked very tender. Now she said, "Come away, Dragon. Grani is fine and you need to be seen to yourself."
The notion surprised him. "There is nothing wrong with me."
"You took a hard fall."
"I'm unhurt."
She sighed, took the curry comb from his hand, and put it back on the wooden shelf that ran around the top of the stall. "Cymbra told me how stubborn you were about your leg."
"That was different."
"I certainly hope so. That was an injury that could have killed you or at the very least kept you in pain for the rest of your life. Now, I doubt you have more than a few bruises. But would it really be so terrible to see to them?"
As she spoke, she came up very close to him, her body brushing lightly against his. He smelled the fragrance of her perfumed soap mingling with the aroma of fresh hay and sunlight. "I have yet to see the sauna," Rycca said.
She was a damn distracting woman. He could scarcely remember what he'd been thinking about a few moments before, except that it had been ridiculous. "You can't actually see much in there," he said absently, studying how the rays of sun played in her hair. "It's dark."
"Really? I guess we'll just have to go by touch then."
Anticipation rippled through him and with it his merry fellow surged happily. Dragon sighed. A day begun hurtling over a horse's head might as well include a little relaxation.
"Is it very hot?" Rycca asked as she ducked her head to enter the low stone building cut into the side of the hill.
Vividly aware that the deep bruising he had felt only a short time before was eclipsed by far more urgent sensations, Dragon smiled. "Extremely."
She looked at him over her shoulder. "I won't get burned, will I?"
"Quite probably," he said and came up close behind her, urging her into the chamber. When he shut the heavy wooden door behind him, the only light came from a small window cut high up in that door and the glowing embers of the fire in a stone box set in the center of the room.
Rycca looked around as her eyes slowly adjusted. The sauna was surprisingly spacious and outfitted with long benches along three sides. "I had no idea it was so big."
"It's not unusual for a group of friends or relatives, sometimes a whole family, to enjoy a sauna together."
"Men and women at the same time?" Rycca was not prudish. It was impossible for her to be so, having grown up at Wolscroft, where no thought was given to modesty or decency. But she was startled by the notion of men and women being at ease in each other's company while naked. She was nothing of the sort at that very moment and they were both still dressed.
Dragon smiled faintly or so it seemed in the dim light. "That is the old way and still the custom where people are used to living in very close quarters."
A sudden thought occurred to Rycca. She turned to him with alarm. "No one is likely to come in while we are here, are they?"
"Certainly not."
"How can you be so sure? If it's the custom for people to use the sauna together—"
He came toward her, his smile deepening. "No one will come."
When still she hesitated, Dragon said, "If I were here by myself, my men would not hesitate to enter unless they had some reason to believe I wished to be alone. However, as I am not by myself—"