Dream of Me/Believe in Me

nodded. Her eyes were very wide and he could see her hands tremble. Dragon was expert at soothing women, albeit usually in very different circumstances. This one was clearly frightened or at the least unsure. Schooling his voice to gentleness, he said, “All right, there's something you'd like Lord Wolf to know. But perhaps you'd like me to tell him?”
    She nodded again, more vigorously. “I don't really know … that is, I'm not sure what to say to him … how he will feel …”
    “Because this is about the Lady Cymbra?”
    Her voice fell to a whisper. “I do not wish to anger him but neither do I think I should keep silent any longer.”
    Dragon stiffened inwardly but he didn't let her see his reaction. The last thing he wanted was any sort ofnews that would upset Wolf, yet he also knew that nothing would anger his brother more than being kept in ignorance.
    “You're right to do this,” he told Brita. “Give me the information and I'll take responsibility for telling the jarl.”
    She looked at him with gratitude. “Thank you, my lord. Please understand, I wish only what is best … for everyone.”
    “That is to your credit. I'm sure we all appreciate your hard work and loyalty—”
    “Not just everyone here. Everyone.”
    He thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “You mean Lady Cymbra as well.”
    “She was very good to me. Without her, I don't know what my life would be today. So, yes, I do want what is best for her, too.” She looked very directly at Dragon. “I care about Lady Cymbra and Lord Wolf and—”
    “And—?”
    Brita took a breath, and Dragon had the sudden, clear impression that she was praying. When she spoke again, her voice was very low and urgent. By the time she fell silent, he was slumped back in his chair, his face drained of color and his eyes blank.
    W OLF LOOKED TOWARD THE STALL DOOR AS HIS brother entered but did not stop currying the large black stallion who stood calmly beneath his hand. Despite the grip of winter on the land, the stable was warm, made so by snug walls and the heat of the animals who occupied it. Fresh straw lay over the ground and the feed troughs were full.
    Dragon glanced from man to beast. “How's his fetlock?”
    The horse, Wolf's favorite, had slipped on ice the precedingweek and gone down hard, but he was recovering well.
    “Healed, I think,” Wolf said. “Is it still snowing?”
    “It is and looks set to continue through the night.” Dragon propped himself up on an overturned barrel and studied his brother. Despite his recent illness, Wolf appeared as powerful as ever. Yet there was a new haggard-ness to his face that spoke of painful thoughts behind eyes that these days were always shuttered.
    “You seem healed, too.”
    Wolf shrugged. “Too much fuss was made of that.”
    Deliberately, Dragon matched his show of unconcern. “Perhaps. We didn't used to pay much attention to such things.” He waited until Wolf was concentrated on the horse again, then said, “Until Cymbra came, that is.”
    At the sudden mention of her name, Wolf stiffened. He shot his brother a single piercing look before returning his eyes to the stallion.
    Dragon was not discouraged. “So what I want to know is, what do you think the odds are that she was telling the truth?”
    Wolf did not reply, nor did he look at his brother again. Enough time passed for Dragon to think he would not respond at all. But finally he emptied the pail he'd been using, set the currying brush inside it, and straightened. His voice was hard despite the edge of soul-deep weariness. “What are you talking about?”
    Doing his utmost to hide his elation at getting a response, Dragon strove to show only the mildest interest. “You remember what she said on the beach, that she couldn't let one of you die because of her?”
    He felt a stab of guilt when his brother flinched but reminded himself that this was all for the best.
    Wolf hung the pail on a peg and began forking fresh straw into the stall. “I remember.”
    “She also told you she went with Hawk willingly.”
    “Is there some point to this?”
    The bite of barely suppressed anger only encouraged Dragon further. He'd be damned if he'd let his brother bury his love for that Frigg-blessed Saxon in the grave of his own heart.
    “Well, if she cared so much about
both
of you that she would have taken her own life to keep you from killing each other, what sense does it make that she would have wanted to leave here?”