Gunnolf, half-mad as he’d been, had not planned the attack.
Thoryn gave testament, having heard every foul confession from Sweyn’s lips, and Eldberg nodded in acceptance, as if having always known the truth of it. He’d retaliated against Svolvaen when no blame lay among its people.
“For my sake, for whatever love you bear me, you’ll set aside the past?”
He nodded wearily. “Not just for your sake, but for Bretta’s. ’Tis fitting that you wielded revenge on he who took her life. I shall never forget, nor forgive, but ’tis a door I must close or I shall lose my reason—and my will to remain in this world.”
I brought his hand to my cheek.
There was good in him; that I believed with all my heart.
* * *
Many had been injured, and many killed. The longhouse was filled with men needing treatment. Sigrid helped, with Ragerta and Thirka, though she would not speak to me.
She’d shown me nothing but ill-will, viewing me as an interloper. When Eldberg told her what he knew, perhaps her manner would soften. Meanwhile, I was content with friendship borne of true kindness, which those of gentlest heart had offered freely.
Thoryn was regaining his strength, and Eldberg, too, though neither would wield a weapon as they once had.
It was Eirik’s bedside I kept through the coming weeks—Eldberg having granted all Svolvaen’s wounded haven. He’d come too soon to battle and had barely strength to endure this fresh wound, but I believed he would recover. My indomitable Eirik!
A signal had been cast from the clifftops soon after the battle, calling the waiting ships into the fjord. Leif and Helka sailed without delay, with those fit to take oars, returning them to Svolvaen and Bjorgen.
Our treaty was struck—for Skálavík to retain its independence, though the Bjorgen forces had brought those of Skálavík to their knees. Ships of both Svolvaen and Bjorgen would be welcomed in the harbour and given preference in all terms of trade. In times of need, we pledged each to come to the others’ aid.
I’d told Eirik of my capture and the bargain I’d made with Eldberg to keep myself alive. In the name of the peace that must be, for the good of Svolvaen, he accepted what was done, though I saw it ate at his heart.
As to the babe growing within me, once his wonder had passed, I saw the uncertainty that burdened him.
“There is something between you and Eldberg?” he asked. “You must tell me, Elswyth. If there is love—” His face contorted, for he could not speak all his fears. “And this child…”
“Nay, husband.” I brought my lips to his, letting him feel my love through my kiss. “Only you have my heart, and the babe is due but two moons from now.”
At once, hope replaced despair, but there was more to be said. I had to tell him everything. We could not build a future on half truths. “Almost a year ago, you went away, and much happened that brought me sorrow.”
“You told me of it,” Eirik replied. “Of Gunnolf’s cruelty and his demands of you. Had he lived, I would have challenged him to the death for how he treated you. As it is, the gods delivered their own justice for his betrayal.”
I shook my head, my eyes stinging. “But, the child—” My bravery failed me. “What if—”
Eirik spread his fingers wide over my stomach. “I will love the child, whether it bears my brother’s blood or my own.” He managed a weary smile. “I’ll teach the boy to be a brave warrior—that he may take the mantle of Svolvaen’s rule.”
“And if we have a daughter?” I raised an eyebrow, pushing away my tears.
“I’ll teach her just the same. She’ll be like her aunt, Helka.”
I pressed my hand over his, filled with new joy. Life was growing inside me. A child we’d raise together. Much had been lost: my mother and grandmother, and the boys with whom I’d grown up, my first home left behind, my lady Asta, and so many of Svolvaen.
Life was fragile, and happiness too precious to throw away. It was worth fighting for. I didn’t know if we could put aside all remorse, but I knew we must try.
“You can forgive me—for all that has happened? You believe me worthy of taking my place beside you as your wife?” I was almost afraid to meet his gaze, for I knew nothing would be hidden there, but he looked truly into my eyes.
“You’re stronger than any woman—even than Helka! By Odin’s blood, what you’ve endured! You’ve the determination of ten men! You’ve always been enough, just as you are. It is I who must strive to prove myself worthy of you.”
He buried his face against my belly. “I thank the gods you’re still alive, and beseech them that nothing shall part us while we yet walk this earth. There is no peace for me in a world without you in it.”
We kissed then, tenderly and long, remembering the feel of each other’s lips and the wonder that was our love. It would only grow stronger, for we had both learned what was real—belief and trust and belonging.
I touched the old scar that ran down Eirik’s brow and cheek. There were many more, across his torso and back. Of my own, most were hidden deep inside, but they were as real as Eirik’s. Once, I might have wished them away, but I knew better now. The scars were reminders of all we’d lived through. They were reminders of what we must learn if we were to carry on and start anew.
Epilogue
February 2nd, 961AD
I clutched Eirik’s hand, bracing against the rising swell of pain.
“Save your strength, my lady.” Ragerta passed a cold cloth over my forehead. “’Twill be some time yet.”
Thirka nodded as my features eased. “And the jarl, he might take some air.”
Eirik looked haggard but said, “I’ll not leave.”
Through the night, the two women wet my lips with water and murmured prayers over me, but my fortitude waned, until I could barely cry out against the spasms, my breathing growing shallow with the lamp’s dimming flicker.
It was near dawn when Ragerta shook my shoulder.
“’Tis time. You must bear down and push the child.”
“No more… Just sleep…” I wished to close my eyes again, but Eirik rubbed my hand between his own. He looked so pale.
“You must, Elswyth. Soon we shall have our child, and our lives will begin a new season. But you must fight!”
Moving to the top of the bed, he brought my shoulders to rest upon his chest.
“Together, we shall do this, wife. You have my strength and your own.”
I did as he asked, straining, grunting, forcing all my will into the child.
“The head!” Thirka shouted. “Again, Elswyth, and the babe is here!”
Eirik’s arms were firm about me. “My brave wife, you can do this!”
Again I strained, forcing the pain downward, and was repaid with the sensation of a great shifting—of a weight moving within me.
I gasped and fell back into Eirik’s embrace, his cheek pressed to mine.
Ragerta lifted the child for us to see, and there was a lusty cry. “’Tis perfect—a fine daughter!”
She laid the babe on my chest, and tears sprang to my eyes. Through all the sorrow of these seasons past, I was delivered of the child I’d longed for—the most precious treasure. She was the creation of my body, miraculous, and belonging to me as nothing else had ever done.
As she nuzzled to my breast, Eirik pressed his mouth to my ear, whispering, “I have everything.” He lifted her tiny hand, and I saw the pride in his face—that he felt it, too.
Her hair was pale, like my own. Like Eirik’s. If she was Gunnolf’s, there was nothing in her appearance yet to show it. Perhaps we’d never know. Perhaps it would never matter.
She was mine and Eirik’s—and I prayed she would know, always, what it was to be loved.
* * *
Doesn’t Eldberg deserve his own ‘happy ever after’?
I’d say so…. and I’ll be writing this for him next year.
I’ve a heroine planned who is more than his match.
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Glossary
to go ‘a-viking’ – to go raiding/marauding
Alfablót – the festival of the dead
blót – ritual sacrifice
dagmal – morning meal
Dökkalfar – the spirits of the dark
draug – the returning dead, restless due to some injury suffered in life
jarl – the chieftain of the community
Jörmungandr – the serpent which encircles the Earth and, on releasing its tail, will begin the events of Ragnarök
Jul – the New Year festival
Lithasblot – the harvest festival
nattmal – late afternoon/early evening meal
Ostara – the spring festival
skald – a travelling storyteller/bard
thrall – a slave (often captured during raids)
Valknut – Odin’s symbol—three interlocking triangles with the power of life over death
The Viking Warriors Series
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More Viking Deliciousness
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Battle-hardened and broad-chested, with shoulders built for carrying you to bed, these Vikings are pure muscle, and pure determination.
Filled with action and suspense, this summer’s hottest beach read comes in the shape of Vikings!
Ashe Barker, Lily Harlem, Felicity Brandon, Gianna Simone, Vanessa Brooks, Sassa Daniels, Sky Purington and Jane Burrelli, join me - Emmanuelle de Maupassant - in creating a shared-world series of supreme alpha hotness, guaranteed to have you page-turning into the late hours.
Delivered into Viking hands, the brides of Achnaryrie now belong to their conquering masters but, as wedding nights bring surrender to duty, will fierce lovers also surrender their hearts?
The Highland wilderness is savage, life is perilous, and the future uncertain, but each Viking has sworn protection, and there are no lengths to which a man will not go to safeguard the woman he loves..
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Further Works
by Emmanuelle de Maupassant
Master of the Moor
A man tortured by brutal memories…
A woman determined to safeguard her liberty…
After more than twenty years in exile, Mallon de Wolfe—formidable, handsome, and with a shard of ice where his heart should be—is returning to Dartmoor.
A place vast, barren and perilous.
A place where secrets refuse to remain buried.
Mallon has vowed to conquer the betrayals of his youth, but faces new danger as his attraction grows for the mysterious Countess Rosseline.
Haunted by scandal and the shame of her bloodline, the newly-widowed Countess is without scruples. She needs a husband capable of securing her status, even if it means resorting to deceit and entrapment.
Is Mallon’s desire for her too intoxicating to be denied, no matter what the price—and can either escape the poisonous dominion of their past?
Purchase HERE
or read an extract HERE
About the Author
Emmanuelle de Maupassant lives with her husband (maker of tea and fruit cake) and her hairy pudding terrier (connoisseur of squeaky toys and bacon treats).
She likes sushi, and marzipan, and the Scottish Highlands.
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Viking Beast: Viking Warriors Series Page 14