Raven hoped the knife would reveal enough to answer some of her questions.
She kept a quick pace, the falling snow turning heavy. There was no guard outside the door and one wasn’t necessary. After all, the man was dead. She entered the small shed and saw that Greta had covered the body with a blanket. A thoughtful gesture from a kindhearted woman.
A quick toss of the blanket at the boot where she remembered seeing the knife had her scrunching her brow. She threw back the blanket up to his knees and examined both boots.
The knife was gone.
Chapter 20
Raven went in search of Greta to find out if she had seen a knife in the dead man’s boot. Of course, by the time she tracked her down, she and Fyn were already heading to the keep. And by the time she reached the bottom of the hill that took her up to the keep, they were halfway to the top.
She thought of waiting and speaking with Greta tomorrow. It wasn’t urgent that she find out today, but she knew it would nag at her if she didn’t. With a hefty sigh of resignation, she started up the hill. Snow was covering the path that had been cleared, but some spots had iced over and were slippery. It was probably the reason Fyn held Greta firmly to his side.
The thought of climbing the entire path had her taking a chance the couple would hear her shout and stop and wait for her to reach them. “FYN!”
He turned as did Greta and they stopped.
Raven tried to hurry her steps, not wanting to keep them waiting in the cold and she almost went down twice, her boot catching icy spots. She was relieved when she finally reached them.
“I won’t keep you,” she said, huddling close to them. “Greta, when you examined the dead man, did you happen to notice a knife tucked in his left boot?”
“I did,” Greta said. “But I thought it best not to disturb it, at least until he thawed some.”
Fyn was quick to ask, “Is there a problem, Raven?”
“The knife is gone,” she said, the significance of its disappearance unnerving.
“If someone here took it…” Fyn didn’t finish, the thought too disturbing.
Raven said what Fyn didn’t. “Someone here knew him and knew what that knife could confirm.”
Fyn finished the rest. “That he was one of Brynjar’s warriors, which means someone in the tribe is faithful to Brynjar.”
“I need to inform Wolf,” she said. “Stay warm and alert, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Be careful going down, there’s ice in spots,” Fyn cautioned.
“I hit a few coming up,” she turned away and left Fyn and Greta to make their way up the rest of the way while she began to make her way down.
She slipped a couple of times but managed to remain on her feet. Though, she came to an abrupt halt when she saw someone approaching her. She couldn’t make out who it was through the heavily swirling snow and cautiously remained where she was. Relief swept over her when her husband got close enough to see it was him and to hear his shout.
“RAVEN!”
She smiled and, eager to reach him, she hurried forward far too fast and hit a spot of ice that not only took her off her feet but sent her rolling down the hill with such force that it ripped her fur cloak off her and a few of the fur wrappings.
Wolf stilled for a sheer moment when he saw his wife slip, then roll rapidly toward him. He sprung forward, throwing himself at her. Her momentum was so strong it took him off his feet before he could stop her, but he managed to wrap himself around her when he went down to try to protect her as much as possible as they rolled with speed down the hill.
They slammed into a snow drift, snow almost burying them.
Wolf felt his wife shiver in his arms and he got the both of them on their feet.
Snow stuck to Raven’s lashes, blurring her sight, and she spit it from her mouth as well. The snow had buried itself deep in every part of her and along with it the bone-chilling cold.
Wolf yanked his fur cloak off and wrapped it around his wife, her body shaking badly, then he scooped her up in his arms and rushed her as fast as possible to the longhouse and straight to their bedchamber.
She hugged herself tight when he placed her on her feet, her shivering worsening. “I’m so cold.”
“Your garments are damp from the snow,” he said, his hands working quickly to strip her naked.
When he was done he rushed her up into his arms again and hurried her into the bed, piling blankets and furs on top of her, but it did little to stop her trembling. He stripped himself fast and slipped beneath the blankets to take her in his arms, but his body was as chilled as hers and only worsened her shivers. He hurried out of bed, grabbed one of the furs off it, and spread it on the floor in front of the hearth.