Page 54 of Ulf's Destiny
He took her hand in his, peace finally restored between them.
“Of course. You’re right. We need to at least listen to the man. So, can you think of anything you could ask him to prove he is who he says he is? A memory only you two would share?”
Her lips twisted in a grimace. “I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I was so young when I was taken… I can’t think of anything. My memories of that time are vague at best. There is, I suppose, the description of my abduction. He was with me that day, even if he was not captured.”
She sounded rather dismayed at the idea that they would have to discuss this painful moment and he could not blame her.
“It’s a start,” he said encouragingly. “It will be easy to see if his version corresponds to yours at least.”
“Yes.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and he almost leaned in to kiss her. Then he thought better of the impulse. Now was not the moment. Only that morning they’d had an argument, and right now, her attention was on the man claiming to be her long-lost brother. Kissing her would have to wait for a more appropriate moment, when they could both enjoy it to the full.
But it would happen, and soon, he would make sure of it.
“Come then, let’s go hear what the man has to say.”
“Willyou leave us a moment with Oslac, please,Faðir?”
Steinar scowled at the mention of the man. “If you want to. I’ve interrogated him since I brought him here. He keeps on insisting he is Ylva’s true brother.”
Well, didn’t that prove that he really was her brother? Ylva could not help but ask herself. Anyone thinking of taking advantage of her vulnerability would have rethought their original plans when faced with such a formidable interrogator. It would have been clear that they had better not hurt someone placed under the protection of such a man. She was not alone and powerless, unlike what they would have hoped, but surrounded by fierce Norsemen.
Only a man who had nothing to blame himself for and truth on his side would insist.
She shuffled closer to Ulf when Steinar glared in the direction of the hut where, presumably, the Saxon was waiting for another interrogation. He was indeed a fearsome man. To think she had briefly considered attacking him last winter… If she had, she might well have died herself. It was not hard to guess he would not have proven as easy to approach as his son—or as lenient afterward.
Then she realized what Ulf had said. He’d called the man “Oslac,” as if he was prepared to believe he was indeed her brother. This gave her courage. She took a step toward the hut, eager to start the investigation.
“Come, Steinar,” Cwenthryth said, her tone soothing. “Let’s give them some privacy. Ylva understandably wants to find out the truth as quickly as possible.”
The difference in the Norseman’s attitude when he turned to his wife was as immediate as it was spectacular. His face softened, and the scowl disappeared. In that moment, he looked just like his son, and Ylva, who had always wondered how the woman could have fallen under the spell of such a gruff man, suddenly understood.
Cwenthryth had fallen for Steinar for the same reasons Ylva was now falling for Ulf.
“You’re right, my love. Let’s go tell my father about the new guest in the village.”
Tucking his wife’s hand under his arm, he walked over to Wolf’s hut, not looking back once. He trusted his son to protect her if need be, and she did too.
Ulf went through the door first, as if wary that the Saxon would pounce as soon as he saw her. He did not but he stood up from his stool, hope shining in his eyes.
“You’ve come.”
“Yes.” Ylva was relieved that Ulf was letting her lead the conversation now that he had seen there was nothing to fear. He had even taken a step to the side. “Let us sit.”
They took their place at the table, she and Ulf on one side, the supposed Oslac on the other. He seemed just as nervous as she was, yet another detail in his favor, she thought. Godfrid, by all accounts, had brazened his way into Cwenthryth’s house. This man seemed intimidated, hopeful, and slightly dazed. Just like a brother she had not seen for thirteen years would be.
Ylva opened her mouth then closed it again when she realized she didn’t know where to start.
“Just ask me what you want to know,” the man said. “I realize this must be odd for you. It is odd for me too, if I’m honest. We were children the last time we saw one another. I remember a little girl. I was told I would find my sister here but I have nothing to tell me that you are the woman I’m looking for. Except…”
Instead of finishing his sentence, he touched his temple. Yes. Their distinctive hair color. She had thought the same.
And his opening had given her an idea.
“Who told you you would find your sister here?” She could not think of a single person outside the village apart from Judith, who knew where—or indeed who—she was. But her friend would never have told a stranger to go to her, she would have come here herself to tell her that someone was looking for her. She was even more distrustful than Ulf, with reason, considering she had been captured as a slave.
“I have wanted to find you for years, from the moment we were separated,” the man started. “As soon as I arrived in town, not knowing where to start, I went to see the reeve. He told me he’d only been elected recently and had never heard of you but he sent me to the previous one. It turned out to be the right thing to do, as the man, Elstan the Wise, knew exactly who you were, having apparently had to deal with you a few months ago.”
