Summer Of The Viking

But he knew what he faced here if his true origins were discovered. To the Northumbrians, one Northman would be very like another. It made no difference that he was from Raumerike and the raiders were Viken. Or the fact that he had always considered the raid to be a grave error. Something which had far more consequences than simply taking gold and a few slaves captive.

He hated the slight deception, but having survived the sea, he wanted to live. He wanted to live more than he thought possible.

Silently he pledged that while he was here, he’d do all in his power to protect Alwynn and to return the favour of giving him his life back.

There were many reasons why Alwynn was out of bounds. He wasn’t staying, but more than that she reminded him far too much of Kara and that wound in his soul was far from healed.

No one since Kara had intrigued him. It had hurt to discover that Kara had only wanted to marry him for the protection he could give her and her young son. He’d let her into his heart, the first woman he’d truly cared about, and she had only wanted him for a friend and bulwark to keep the estate intact.

He had spent the time since then feeling as if he was encased in ice and ignoring his sister-in-law’s pointed remarks about how he needed to marry. Valdar shook his head. His near-drowning had addled his wits.

‘I’ve lit a fire and made a simple poultice for your ribs. They need to be bound before you sleep,’ Alwynn said, appearing in the doorway. She’d shed her head covering and shawl and acquired an all-enveloping apron. But it was the way her dark hair escaped its braid that held his attention. ‘By rights I should call a monk.’

‘No!’ Valdar struggled to breathe. ‘You promised to keep my presence quiet.’

She lowered her brows. ‘I retain the right to call in a monk if you require it.’

‘I’ve been injured worse and haven’t required a monk.’ There were no monks in Raumerike, precious few healers for that matter. Kara was the only one who possessed some skill. Most seemed to prefer making sacrifices to various gods. There was little point in explaining how he had cheated the gods by palming the black counter and no god would be interested in intervening on his behalf. Things worked differently with Northumbrians.

‘And you know best?’

‘In this case—yes.’ He deliberately closed his eyes. ‘The sun’s heat is wonderful. Warms my bones. There were moments in the water when I feared I’d never see the sun again.’

‘Do you need help getting into the cottage?’

Confirmation if he needed it that he must look like death.

He began to rise and immediately wished he hadn’t. In the brief time he’d been sitting, his muscles had seized and refused to obey him. He concentrated and tried again, forcing his muscles to move. Every single one protested as he stood.

‘If you have a stick I can lean on, I will go in.’

She hurried to him and grabbed his arm. Her scent acted as a balm, banishing the ache. ‘Are you always this stubborn? Is that why you ended up in the sea?’

‘I jumped,’ he said.

‘Why? Was the boat going down? Will more bodies wash up?’

‘The rest stayed on the boat.’

‘You jumped of your own accord?’ Her voice rose an octave. ‘During a storm?’

Alwynn would not understand about his gods and their demands. The Northumbrians, like the Franks, followed a different religion. He shook his head. His gods had turned their backs on him. Who was he to judge which god was right? From now on he concentrated on living, rather than thinking about things beyond his comprehension.

He glared at her. ‘When the time came, I welcomed it. I wanted to be doing something, rather than waiting for death.’

‘Jumping into the ocean during a storm seems extreme.’

‘There are many ways to die. I took the way which offered me the most hope of surviving.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘I’ve no idea what happened to my shipmates but they will not be near here. They will have continued on their journey back home, assuming I died. There will be much shedding of false tears when they arrive back in Raumerike.’

‘What had you done?’

‘Nothing except to attempt to keep an oath I gave.’ He ran his hand through his hair. On that dreadful morning when he had stood over Horik’s body and Girmir had demanded he show his loyalty to the new leader, Valdar had vowed to avenge his friend’s death.

She lifted a brow. ‘You keep oaths by jumping into the stormy sea?’

‘I don’t expect you to understand the ways of my people. Simply trust me that it had to be done and that I broke no laws. I follow a code. The same as my father did and his father before him.’

She rolled her eyes upwards. ‘God preserve me from warriors and their honour. But rather than using a stick, take my arm.’

He opened his mouth to ask how a slight person like her could assist him, but then swallowed the words as he remembered how her soft breasts had felt against his side during the journey from the beach. The only reason he had escaped the scavengers was down to her. And he always paid his life debts.

‘I will only trouble you a day or two.’ He ignored the screaming pain in his ribs. ‘Once I am rested, I will move on. I understand what risks you have taken. You will be rewarded. I promise.’

‘No reward is necessary. My code demanded it.’ Her full lips gave a bitter twist. ‘Or don’t you think a woman can have a code?’

‘I know a great number of honourable women.’

‘You want to return to your home and your loved ones. Your honourable women.’

Home. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. A place of dashed dreams and unfulfilled promises. He had no idea how people would react when he told his tale of Girmir’s betrayal and what had happened afterwards. Would they believe him or Girmir? Girmir was his jaarl’s distant cousin and there had been bad blood between Horik and the jaarl. Valdar shook his head. That was a problem for another day. Right now was about survival.

‘Everyone wants a home, a place where they can feel safe.’

‘For now, consider this your place of safety.’

‘A refuge, rather than a home.’

She draped his arm over her shoulders and glanced up at him. A gentle breeze blew hair across her face. Her eyes were sea green underlain with silver and her lips softly parted. Desire stirred deep within him.

It had been far too long since he’d lain with a woman. Since before Kara. Perhaps it was as his sister-in-law counselled him before he left—a question of time. She hadn’t liked it when he asked her about why she remained unmarried, though. His brother had been gone a long time and she needed protection.

Maybe the queer hold Kara had over him was lessening and he could get on with his life. After he wreaked his revenge on Girmir, then he would inform his sister-in-law that she could start the search for his bride.

Quickly he removed his arm. Alwynn gave him a questioning glance.

‘I am able to walk on my own. I don’t want to crush you with my weight.’

‘You are without a doubt the most stubborn man I’ve met.’ She put her hand on her hip. ‘How do you think you arrived at this cottage in the first place?’

‘Calling someone stubborn is a compliment where I come from.’

He deliberately walked into the cottage, setting his feet down hard and not glancing at her again even though he sensed she hovered at his elbow, ready to catch him if he fell.

On the threshold, he stood and allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. The cottage was larger than many in Raumerike and boasted three tapestries on the walls as well as a decent hearth in the centre of the room. A long table dominated one end of the room while a simple pallet of straw lay close to the newly started fire.

‘When will the owner return?’

‘My old nurse uses it. She retired here a few years ago.’ Alwynn turned her back and began to fiddle with the pots on the table. ‘She and my late husband were less than good friends.’

‘Was this nurse a good judge of character?’

She turned her back on him and began smoothing the coverlet. ‘A long time ago she gave me permission to use the cottage whenever I wish.’

‘You are high-born. I know enough about the customs of these lands.’

Her hand stilled. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Why did you try to hide it from me? I’ve no wish to harm you.’

He captured her hand and raised her palm to his lips. She trembled slightly. She quickly withdrew her hand as her cheeks flamed.

She tilted her chin upwards and her eyes blazed green fire. Every inch the imperious lady.

‘There was no hiding. I may have been the lady of a great estate, but no longer. Now I’m simply a woman who tends her garden. My mother would be appalled, but I paid my late husband’s debts without losing my honour or turning away any of our old servants from their homes, including my nurse. So, yes, my nurse is a good judge of character.’

‘Honour is important to you.’

Her eyes flashed fire. ‘Without my honour, I am nothing.’

He kept his face impassive. A deep primitive urge to protect her filled him. Angrily he dampened it down. He had no business here. His business was elsewhere. The people of this land meant nothing to him.

‘I, too, have honour,’ he said instead, seeking to put his debt to her on more formal terms. ‘I owe you a life debt...Lady Alwynn. I always pay my debts. Know this and keep it in your heart.’

Her brows drew together. ‘What does that mean? A life debt?’

‘You saved me. I owe you something for that, regardless of what your code demands.’ He allowed a smile to touch his lips. His debt to this woman was no different from the ones he’d owed to various warriors who had saved his back. ‘My life is very precious to me.’

‘Not jumping off any more boats would do for a start.’ She moved away from him. ‘I’ve not done anything special. I am simply the person who happened upon you. Any other decent person would have done no less.’

‘And yet I believe you are not supposed to save strangers on a beach.’ He made a correct bow. The muscles in his back screamed. ‘Ask what you will and if it is in my power, I will do it. You do not need to decide right away.’

‘And if I decide after you have gone?’

He twisted his mother’s ring off his little finger. ‘Send this and I will come.’

Her fingers closed around it. ‘And how will I find you?’

‘When I go, we will speak of it.’

Her tongue absently traced the outline of her lower lip. ‘There is no need. As I said, I am merely a woman who tends her garden.’

‘You saved my life.’

They stood looking at each other until a wood pigeon called in the woods. The spell was broken.

‘I’ve made up a bed and you need to drink this,’ she said, suddenly all businesslike. She picked a wooden beaker up from the table. ‘I made it earlier when...when you were resting outside.’

He took a taste of the strangely sweet liquid. ‘And it is?’

‘Valerian mixed with mead. To make you sleep.’

‘I will rest and then depart.’ A great sneeze racked his body, making his ribs hurt anew. ‘I don’t want to put you in danger.’

‘You may go when you are fit to travel.’ She placed her hands on her hips. ‘And you will catch your death if you continue to stand there partially unclothed.’ She gestured towards the bed. ‘There is a nightshirt. Put it on. I would have your clothes to lay before the fire.’

‘Only half-drowned.’

‘When you are finished, call me.’

‘You are not going to stay to watch me disrobe completely?’

She quirked a brow upwards. ‘I doubt there will be anything interesting to see.’

She turned on her heel and went out of the room.

Valdar gave a half-smile. It felt good to bait her. Something to do which did not involve fighting for his survival or nursing the black place in his soul.

‘I will find a way to repay her before I leave,’ Valdar vowed under his breath as a wave of tiredness hit him. He breathed in the dusty pleasant smell. For the first time in a long while, despite being on enemy territory, he knew he was safe.

* * *

The faint embers of the fire flickered, throwing strange lights on the plaster walls. Alwynn sat in Gode’s only chair and listened to the sound of Valdar’s uneven breathing.

The warrior hadn’t woken since he fell into the valerian-induced sleep, but he had had nightmares. Merri had returned after exercising Purebright. She was uncharacteristically quiet, but Alwynn put it down to the morning’s excitement. She also readily agreed to help keep Valdar’s presence a secret before she left.

Alwynn had occupied herself by washing the salt out of his clothes and generally tidying the cottage. When her old nurse returned, she would have to have the talk about Gode living alone that she’d been postponing for a few months. Perhaps now that Theodbald was dead and they lived in a different hall, Gode would be more willing. Alwynn made a face. Gode was a law unto herself.

Valdar began thrashing about on the makeshift pallet, moaning in his sleep, calling on all manner of people for assistance.

Alwynn went over and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Hush, you are safe. But continue to yell this loudly and they will hear you in the next kingdom.’

His eyes flew open and he raised his fist. The embers from the fire were reflected in the depths of his eyes. She couldn’t say if he saw her or someone else, but his hand slowly lowered.

He mumbled something indistinct and his fingers picked at the bed covering.

‘Pardon?’

‘Kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it.’ His face became tortured. ‘Please.’

She stared at him. Did he mean her? Or some other woman?

‘You must lie still. Rest.’ She paused. ‘Later, I will kiss you.’

‘Please! Now! Once before I die.’

The ragged plea tore at her heart. One kiss would not change anything. But it might mean something to him. What if he didn’t last the night? What if she never knew what his mouth felt like against hers?

She knelt down beside him and took his face in her hands. His skin was hot to the touch and his eyes fever-bright.

What harm could it do? He’d never remember it.

She lowered her mouth and tasted. His lips parted and she was drawn into a kiss which was unlike any she had experienced before—gently persuading, but intense at the same time. His hand came around her head and held her in place while he coaxed and nibbled. Her entire being became flame and she wanted it to continue.

Then suddenly it was over. His hand, which had held her head in place, fell back. His eyes fluttered shut.

‘Kara never kissed me like that. Ever.’

Alwynn sat back on her heels and touched her aching lips. What had she done? Who was Kara? His wife? His mistress? The woman he loved? It shouldn’t matter, but it did. She hugged her arms about her waist, trying to prevent a great hollow from opening and swallowing her up. He wouldn’t remember it in the morning, but she knew she’d remember it for the rest of her life.

It had been the moment when she’d proved that she was made of more than ice, that it had been her husband at fault. Another ghost laid to rest. She sighed. But there were plenty more ghosts where that one came from. She might not be made of ice, but she had never borne a live child. Ever.

The familiar but bittersweet longing to hold her own child swept over her. She pushed it away. She had Merri. She was contented in her life. She knew what she wanted.

Valdar thrashed his head about on the pallet and muttered several words. Alwynn froze. She knew deep in her heart what he was and where he was from. Across the sea. From the North. But he wasn’t a raider. He’d come in peace.

She smoothed Valdar’s damp hair from his forehead and knew she would make the same choice. This man deserved to live. ‘What have I done?’

Chapter Four

Alwynn paused in the weeding of Gode’s garden the next morning. Sitting still and watching Valdar only kept the thoughts about the kiss they’d shared circling about her brain. She had ventured outside at first light, determined to do something productive.

Thankfully Gode wouldn’t mind. More than anything Gode would welcome the weeds being pulled and the action always made Alwynn think more clearly.

The day’s hot sun had dried all the damp from the flowers and the hum of bees made the garden alive with noise. Everyday noises which should reassure her that everything was normal and nothing was going to happen as a result of her impulsive behaviour last night. All she had to do was to forget it had ever happened.

Trusting a stranger, particularly a warrior like Valdar, was madness. She could have put everyone in danger. And she had kissed him. Properly kissed him. The only other man she’d ever kissed was Theodbald. She needed to go back into the cottage and inform him that it was time to leave.

Alwynn stayed where she was. Sending an injured man away wasn’t in her nature. The words he had spoken in another language last night had been caused by his injuries. They were fevered nonsense, meaning nothing. It was simply the language of his homeland, and the lateness of the hour and the darkness of the night had made her own foolish mind read far too much into them. Valdar was not a Northman. Not like the kind that had attacked Lindisfarne and butchered the monks anyway. In the bright light of day she was sure of it. He’d given his word and she believed him.

She dug her trowel into the warm earth. After Valdar had departed, then she’d inform Edwin. Maybe give him a day’s head start. Northumbria and Raumerike were not at war. How can you be at war with a country you have never heard of?

The last thing she wanted was trouble. As reeve, Edwin needed to know about a stranger in their midst, but exactly when he discovered it was another matter.

She shook her head. Finally she was becoming pragmatic. There was something to be said for her recently widowed state after all.

‘My lady.’ Oswy the Blount raised his hand in greeting. ‘Here I discover you.’

Alwynn nodded towards the grizzled miller, but her heart pounded. The tension in her neck eased slightly when she saw the empty doorway. Silently she prayed Valdar had enough sense to stay hidden.

‘Oswy the Blount,’ she said in an overloud voice, hoping Valdar would understand the impending danger and hide. ‘What brings you to this desolate place? You surely can’t be looking for Gode and one of her potions, not after your wife proclaimed that the monks’ potions were far superior.’

She gave a studied laugh. Oswy and her old nurse’s enmity was the standing joke of the village.

‘No, my lady, I came to see you, not that old crone.’ Oswy gave a shiver and then a hearty laugh. Once his hair had indeed been blond like his nickname, but now it was streaked with white.

Although he had loyally served under her father and was considered the best gristmiller in this part of Northumbria, lately he always had an excuse to explain why his sacks of flour were light or delayed. The excuses were plausible, but Alwynn wondered—was he really that loyal to her?

The current delay had been part of the reason why she’d been forced to scavenge sea coal.

Alwynn carefully kept her head turned away from the cottage where Valdar lay.

‘What brings you here, then?’ She forced a light laugh. ‘Does your wife require another tablet-weaving pattern?’

He shook his head. ‘She is well supplied at the moment, thank you kindly. I wanted to let you know that I’ve delivered the flour you require. Only the best for my lady. I know how you like the fine flour for your honey cakes.’

She schooled her features ‘Fine flour? But only two days ago you told me that there was no possibility of it before the autumn harvest.’

She had thought then that she needed a steward, someone to enforce her will with the point of a sword. But if she provoked Oswy, there was always a possibility that the others would follow his lead. The last thing she wanted was a rebellion. It would play straight into Edwin’s hands. The fine lady who could not adequately protect her tenants did not deserve any estate.

Oswy and others saw her as a soft touch, Gode often proclaimed. Theodbald had been far too interested in his own pleasure to pursue the rents and Alwynn wasn’t altogether sure if Oswy respected her.

The older man rubbed the back of his neck. ‘My son had put the wheat in the wrong place, which is why I thought I had none, you see. Once I discovered the mistake, I thought it best to let you know straight away. We wish to stay on at the mill, if all can be resolved, my lady. I have paid my next quarter’s rent before time as well.’

Alwynn stood up. There was far more to this than simply mislaying flour sacks and rediscovering them a few days later. But a non-direct approach was best. She’d learnt that Oswy dug in his heels and became stubborn if directly accused of not being entirely honest.

‘It is good to know. I am grateful you discovered the missing wheat. And that you paid your rent so early.’ She paused and then invited him to tell her the true reason for the sudden discovery. ‘Is there any other news?’

Oswy wrung his cap between his hands. ‘Lord Edwin departs this afternoon. Tomorrow morning at the very latest.’

She fought against the urge to clap her hands together in jubilation. The answer to her problem. If Lord Edwin was gone, she could hardly report Valdar’s presence and the manner in which he was discovered. It had to be done in person. She could not risk the message becoming jumbled and she knew that Lord Edwin could neither read nor write.

And Valdar would be long gone before Lord Edwin returned.

Her jubilation rapidly faded. Lord Edwin’s departure also opened other more intractable problems. Without warriors, the people in this area would be prime prey for any outlaw who happened past, even if no Northmen came raiding.

Silently she cursed her husband’s feckless ways and her own inability to see it until it was far too late. If she had taken charge, she might have been able to prevent all the wealth being spent.

‘He was supposed to stay here all summer because of the Northmen threat,’ she said when she trusted her voice. ‘He promised protection, particularly after last year’s attempted raid on the River Don. We mustn’t be left vulnerable!’

She hated how her voice rose and risked a hurried glance at the cottage. She wasn’t going to ask Valdar for help. It would be wrong of her.

‘During last night’s visit he said that people should stop seeing shadows. The Northmen will not return. They fear us now. St Cuthbert’s storm last year shattered their ships and killed their leader. His interests are better served near the king and he is going right away.’

Alwynn tilted her head to one side. Edwin had visited Oswy? Interesting. It explained much about why the flour had gone missing. Edwin had been annoyed that she retained the title to the few remaining hides of land around her hall, including the gristmill. ‘And his prohibition against rescuing any who are washed up from a shipwreck? Lord Edwin blows in the wind.’

‘That still stands. It is for our safety. Them Northmen would murder us in our beds, they would.’

‘If he truly feels we aren’t safe, he should stay and do his duty. A strong sword arm deters much.’

Oswy flushed. ‘He has his reasons for seeking the king. There are many who remember that Athelfred once had his kingship taken from him.’

Alwynn made a face. Edwin put his own interests first, not the interests of his people. And it only spoke of one thing—a return to the civil war which had plagued Northumbria on and off for the past few generations. But she couldn’t worry about matters of state, she had enough to worry about here.

‘He stopped the Northmen last year, killing their leader in a sword fight,’ she reminded him.

‘He had St Cuthbert’s help then. Without the storm, their boats would not have been wrecked. What if he goes back to his wicked ways and God turns his back on all of us?’