Dream of Me/Believe in Me

“How much of a head start do you think you should have?”
    “Head start? Why would I want that?”
    “Well, you don't know these waters, and after all, you're only Saxon and it wouldn't really be fair to—”
    That did it. The challenges—and the wagers—flew fast and furious. Cymbra resisted the temptation to throw up her hands but only barely. At length, when they finally noticed that she was still there, Wolf strove to make amends.
    “Elskling, ”
he said, “why don't I have one of the servants fetch your lute? You can play for us.”
    “By all means,” Hawk agreed. “I haven't heard you play in months and I've missed it.”
    Pleased, if surprised, that they would choose so tranquil a pastime over the fierce tales of the skald, Cymbra was happy to comply. But after she had played the first few tunes, she noticed Hawk frowning.
    “That isn't your lute,” he said, “What happened to the one taken from Holyhood?”
    She welcomed this opportunity to tell him of her husband's thoughtfulness. “It was damaged. Wolf very kindly got me this one to replace it.”
    Hawk sat back in his chair, smiling at her pleasantly. With no warning whatsoever, he asked, “Was that before or after he
kindly
dragged you away from the man who was whipped?”
    “How did you—?” Hurriedly, she looked to Wolf. “Did you tell him that?”
    Her husband was silent for a moment, regarding Hawk steadily. At length, he said, “No, I didn't. Where did you hear about it?”
    Hawk shrugged. “You know how it is, people talk.”
    “Especially to visitors with coin to spend and a willingness to listen?”
    “Perhaps. At any rate, Cymbra hasn't answered me. Was it before or after?”
    “Before,” she said, not waiting for Wolf to reply for her as she was certain he would. “And I think perhaps you misunderstood what happened with that man. He was a thief. His crime was great for he tried to rob two families of their livelihoods. It's true that I wasn't allowed to care for him after he was punished, but Ulfrich did.”
    “Then you suffered no distress from what happened?”
    She hesitated, both unwilling and unable to lie. “You know I was … sheltered from such things and you know why. But my husband's rule is just. It is his responsibility to maintain order for the protection of his … that is, our people.”
    “Absolutely,” Hawk agreed. “I'm very relieved to know you can … accept such things, especially as they seem to be very common around here. But tell me, how did you feel about witnessing the executions of those men who raided the settlement?”
    Cymbra pressed her lips together tightly and shot another quick look at Wolf. He was lounging in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, a horn of ale held lightly in one powerful hand. With a sardonic lift of his brow, he said to Hawk, “You have been busy. Or should I say, your men have.”
    Hawk also appeared completely at his ease. He even went so far as to chuckle. “Just taking an interest. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
    “Of course not. Did your interest extend to finding out how those men died?”
    “As a matter of fact, it did. Personally, I would havegone for something a little more likely to stick in people's minds.”
    Wolf nodded pleasantly. “Now there we can agree. I actually had intended … I suppose you could call it an object lesson. But I decided against it at the very last.”
    “Really? Why?”
    “Cymbra was insisting on being present, something about feeling it was her duty as wife of the jarl. I didn't want her upset so we just lopped their heads off, made a quick job of it.”
    “Very
kind
of you. I take it then that those men you fought together—and by the way, I'm sure that was very impressive—became the object lesson?”
    “You could say that.”
    “And you insisted Cymbra witness it. She was actually forced to do so by your brother”—he glanced in Dragon's direction—“acting on your orders.”
    “No!” Cymbra exclaimed. “That isn't what happened. In fact, Dragon made sure I didn't see the … the worst parts.” Dismayed by what Hawk had learned, and how he interpreted it, she blurted, “I don't think it's a good idea to have your men listening to gossip.”
    “Oh, really? What do you think they should be doing?”
    She stared at him, momentarily at a loss, then seized on the first thing that came into her head. “Sailing. That's why I suggested it. They should be sailing.”
    He gave her a