Eighteen
It was a warm morning, one of the first of the year, but Deirdre didn't notice that. She had far too much else on her mind. When the three came back around as the sun rose, waking her with a hand on her ankle, she sat up with a jolt.
Already, threats from both sides had started to echo in her mind. If she told them anything, would Valdemar know? Was one of them working with him? If not, then how had he known?
She tried to keep her face impassive, waited for them to speak. Even still, the thoughts raced through her mind. If she didn't tell them whatever they wanted to know, then they were committed to making her life hell. She'd been told so in not remotely uncertain terms, and she believed it.
For a long time both sides watched the other, neither speaking. What were they waiting for? What was Deirdre supposed to do? If she'd known what they wanted then she would have given it to them. But she didn't know, and that made her situation that much more painful, prolonged the silence that much more.
"How was your meeting?"
The question almost sounded sarcastic, in the way that it was so… almost pleasant.
"I didn't tell him anything," she blurted. She didn't know what else they would want to know, but that was the first thing that she knew could get her into a lot of trouble. So it fell out, almost before she even knew what was going on.
"If you had, we wouldn't be here. Isn't that right?" Leif's voice was low and hard, and she shuddered at the sound of it. He left out the fact that he would have taken more than one person with him, but somehow Deirdre didn't miss it.
"I suppose not," she agreed, not sure how to react. When would they finally ask their questions? How long would this go on for?
She blinked back the thoughts and with a deep breath, drew herself back up to her full height and when she opened her eyes again she had control of herself.
"What was he doing when you went in?"
She tried to remember. His back had been to the entrance, and he had been doing… something, with his hands. She tried to think harder, to remember what had been on the table, to remember what he had been doing.
But there was nothing. She hadn't looked. She'd been too busy trying to take in the entire surrounding. She shook her head.
"I don't know. He was facing away, and I couldn't see what was in his hands."
Eirik nodded as if he were confirming the story, in spite of the fact that he couldn't have known.
"And what did he ask you?"
"He asked me about you. Not your names specifically, but he knew that someone had been to talk to me and that they were asking for me to spy."
"What did he tell you to say?"
"Nothing. He didn't tell me anything, but…" her voice cracked under the pressure. "He'll kill me, I swear he was going to kill me."
She wasn't sure what she was supposed to have told them. The truth was one thing, but the truth was that he hadn't given her much to go on. He'd made some menacing comments, and given her a few hard looks.
But when she looked back up and watched their eyes for a reaction, they held none. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. All she wanted was to be free from this situation. Both sides wanted to ask all of these questions, questions that she had no answer for and no idea how to respond to.
Would this have happened if Gunnar were still here? Even if he hadn't challenged Valdemar to his revenge-duel, the threat of it would have kept everyone in line, she thought. But she had needed him gone, and the consequences were what she had to accept because she'd done what had to be done.
Leif spoke again. "We'll be in touch. Keep an eye out. If you think we'd like to know, well, remember it."
Deirdre nodded sleepily. She hadn't been able to fall asleep the night before, worrying and waiting. She had to hope that Gunnar would find them somehow. Tracking them, or something.
And she had to hope that when he did catch up with them, that he would understand why she'd done what she had, because the more time that went by the more that she wasn't sure that she understood it herself. She shuddered at the thought.
How much would they try to squeeze her? It wasn't fair, but she'd brought it all on herself. She drifted to an uneasy sleep, and was awoken again by someone's hand on her. She turned hard. The boy was there. He had an expression she didn't like, but when he told her to follow there was no choice but to obey.
Valdemar wasn't facing away from the entrance to his tent, this time. He was sitting in his chair, lounging back, and he had an oddly contented smile on his face.
"I hear that you had a visit this morning from your new friends," he said. "I hope you didn't tell them anything."
"I don't know anything to tell them," she said. It was the truth.