by M. E. Sháen
“They could yet be if it is what you seek.”
Halfdan twisted toward him. “Tell me, would you see Thorsson brought low?”
“He has lived his life.”
Halfdan chuckled. “I see. And why then do you not seek this for yourself?”
“It is to you the men look for guidance, Halfdan. Be not more an idiot than you are so often of late. Or do you not want it? You are content to keep this land and that woman? Or would you have more? There is much more to be had.”
“I will consider it.”
“In the meantime, take yourself to town, be seen.”
“Very well. I will go this day.”
“Good.”
Halfdan nodded. “You will come with me.”
“Yes, of course.”
The door opened behind them, and Blythe peeked out. “There is porridge.”
Both men nodded as she shut the door.
“Eowils, I will give Nerys Elen her freedom.”
“Mm, you suppose it surprises me?” His gaze turned to Halfdan.
“No,” he laughed. “It will surprise her, I think.”
“Brother, whatever this is,” Eowils’s gesture encompassed the house behind them, “do you think it is best?”
“It is what the gods brought me,” Halfdan shrugged. “Who am I to deny the fates?”
Eowils stood. “Wed her before getting children on her, it is all I say. You do not want that bitch to bring you more trouble. You have enough with her as it is.”
He looked down at Halfdan. “And you have no intention of staying off her thighs. I know this.” He shook his head. “You have that look about you.”
Halfdan smiled broadly. “You say that I may wed her, then?”
Eowils rolled his eyes. “By all the gods, I do not know why, but yes. You have my permission to,” he made a face, “wed the thrall.”
He spit in the dirt. “Why I agree, I do not know. You will do a harm to yourself if not, I suppose.”
“She has no father, no family, to seek the permission of.”
“Nor to provide the bride price.”
“I care not. I have what I need.”
“Halfdan, father would have thought you mad to do this.”
“You have said yes.”
“Because you will not stop until I do.”
He lowered his gaze. “You get what you want because you are too stubborn to do otherwise. And with her, it is a mistake. But a mistake I see you must make yourself. So yes, wed her. Get children on her. Go. Do what you intend, you have my permission if it ever mattered what I thought.”
Halfdan hopped up, ignored the twinge the movement brought and ushered Eowils into the house.
I rose when they entered and started toward the fire to fetch bowls for them.
“Blythe can do it. Nerys Elen, come.” Halfdan guided me with his hands atop my shoulders.
“I do not mind,” I protested.
“Nerys Elen, now.”
I nodded at Blythe, who rose to get Eowils a bowl of food. Then Halfdan was pushing me out the door.
He kept pushing until we were halfway to the barn before I dug in and turned to him.
“What is it?” I eyed his giddy smile for a moment. “Halfdan, what have you done?”
“I have, I,” he stumbled over the words, tried again. “Vixen, I would see you no longer a thrall.”
I frowned up at him. “I’ve not yet the money to buy my freedom.”
“My life is the price.”
“Halfdan.”
He put his fingers atop my lips. “Listen to me. You could have had my farm at my death, yet you gave me my life instead. My life is the price of your freedom.”
“Halfdan.”
“You have no choice, vixen. I no longer own you.”
My lips quirked. “I have no choice but to be free? Is that the command you give?”
“I,” he thought about that a moment. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
“Very well. What now do you do with a free woman beneath your roof? Is it not unseemly? A widower and a maiden?”
“You are maiden no longer,” he bumped against me with a smirk.
“I listen to what they say, Halfdan. No free woman ought to live beneath a man’s roof lest he is her family or her man,” I singsonged in a parody of the gossip the thralls spoke.
“Mm, and who speaks this where you hear?” He ran his hands down my arms. “For it sounds much as though you seek to claim me.”
“I could live elsewhere,”
“You’ve no family.” He bumped me back another step. “No one to speak for you.”
“Interesting how in freeing me you have set me another form of servitude.”
“You have your own voice as you there are none to speak for you.” He pushed me back again, each small bump took me closer to the barn. “What would you ask, vixen? You are free to speak as you chose.”
I held his gaze. “To remain here.”
“To remain here, hm? With me?”
I backed into the barn, and he kicked the door shut behind us, plunging us into the warm half-light and the smell of the animals.
“Yes.”
“Not so very long ago you wished to be anywhere but here,” he pointed out. “And that is changed?”
I slipped my arms around his neck. “I find you an agreeable annoyance.”
He smiled at me. “And I you, vixen.” He brushed his lips across mine. “Come to town with me this day.”
“What for?”
“Eowils is right. They must see well me and whole. A woman with me is proof I am capable,”
I snickered, then put my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. He grinned and raised one brow at me.
“Be my wife, Nerys Elen. It will solidify your place here. With me.”
I tilted my head to study him. “Tell me, Halfdan of the Danes, was this all along the point?”
He shrugged. “I like the trouble we are together.”
I rose on tiptoe to kiss his mouth.
22
Halfdan settled onto one of the long benches that ran the length of the room. I sat next to him as Eowils took the seat on his opposite side.
He leaned in to whisper to me. “I want your eyes and ears, vixen. Watch, learn what you can.”
I heard Eowils alert Halfdan to a newcomer to the longhouse. “Look,”
Halfdan let his gaze shift to the door where Svein had entered.
“Word takes not long to travel,” Eowils muttered.
“Like upon wings of a raven,” he agreed.
Svein made no bones of his visit, coming directly to our table just as I arrived with cups and a pitcher of ale.
“You were said to be quite ill.”
I lifted one brow behind the man but said nothing as she poured for Eowils and Halfdan.
“I am well now, Svein. Thank you for your kind words.”
I poured a cup and Svein snatched it away. Halfdan gave a single shake of his head, so I turned back to fetch another cup.
“Then your harvest will not be lost.”
“Nerys Elen would have it in hand were I yet abed.”
Svein’s face went through a contortion that might be funny if it hadn’t so clearly shown the twisted working of his mind. He turned at my approach to give me a lingering look.
Halfdan poured my cup full.
“Thank you.”
He grinned, gaze never leaving Svein.
“You bring that thrall about as if her worth equal that of any woman.”
Halfdan opened his mouth to reply. But I beat him to it.
“Perhaps not all word from Halfdan’s farm makes the town so quickly? My freedom was bought and paid.”
A pinch to my thigh beneath the table silenced me.
“A free woman, Halfdan? And you keep her still?”
“Nerys Elen and I are to be wed, Svein. In the spring before the raids.”
Svein stared at them for a moment, then forced a laugh.
“A
bout time you took another woman, even if this one is a freed thrall.”
“The status of which to base any claim about my brother’s wife is pointless.”
Eowils’s shoulders rose as he settled himself forward, elbows on the table. “She is a free woman and has agreed to be his wife.”
My gaze traveled to Eowils, and I got another warning pinch.
Svein’s eyes narrowed. “I wondered if you would not take another wife. Perhaps it no longer suits you.”
“As it does not you?” Halfdan replied with a smirk. “I, at least, had a wife before.” He smiled and settled against the wall at his back. “Have you found no woman to settle with?”
Eowils stiffened as Halfdan danced the knife-edge of an insult for which Svein could claim the right to fight to the death.
Svein seemed to ignore the implied slight. To be fair, the man had made the first insult. Halfdan may have been able to justify a little fighting of his own if he had not cut Svein off.
“Will Jarl Thorsson take the west again in the summer?”
Svein’s attention captured by Eowils’s remark, he dropped his gaze from Halfdan. “Now that your brother lives? Certainly. The sons of Hringr have a knack for traversing the seas to the west.”
Halfdan’s attention was caught when I went stiff at his side. He looked up in time to see Erick as the man all but leaped atop the table.
“Halfdan Hringerson will wed?”
“Erick, hush.” He lowered his eyes to his cup. “I will and now all know. Thank you for saving me the trouble of saying it myself.”
Erick’s slightly unfocused gaze settled on me. “Hello.”
I nodded and waggle my fingers at the man squatting atop the table.
“Erick can be… impulsive,” he said into my ear. “Watch for me.”
He smoothed his hand down my hair.
I nodded, the reminder was enough to send my gaze from Erick to the room once more, allowing him to give his attention to Svein’s parting comment.
“… the Thing in a week.”
He glanced at Eowils’s scowl. Eowils sat back with a grunt as soon as the sniveling minion was gone.
“Will you?” He asked as he filled his cup once more.
Halfdan shook his head. “Will I what?”
“Bring her and Blythe before the Thing.”
“There is some reason?”
“None save what that little man may make in his mind.” He glanced at Halfdan. “They are to share their knowledge of the west with Thorsson.”
“Oh.” Halfdan’s quiet reply earned a scowl from his brother.
“Is Blythe better?” Erick slid off the table to crouch at it and stare at Halfdan. “How does the girl?”
“She is well.” Mind elsewhere, he missed what I sat forward.
“She heals. She needs her own kind about her.”
“Nerys Elen,”
I shook my head at him. “No, Halfdan. You have seen. She is better because she is not alone.”
Erick looked between us.
“You wish to protect her. Admirable, perhaps, but unnecessary. The girl will come to her place in time, no matter if she stays with an unbeliever such as you or not.”
He saw the narrowing of my eyes, saw that I took it in mind to speak back, and he put his hand over my mouth.
“Not a word, Nerys Elen. It is not your place.”
I made a face and shook his hand off.
Erick reached across the table to me. “I would not do her harm.”
The words surprised even Halfdan, and he let his own hand drop.
“She fears this world. How can any man of it ever teach her the right of it? Teach her to survive?”
Erick nodded at me, lifted his hand toward my hair, thought better of it, and let it rest atop the table once more. “I would see no harm come to her. None has come to you.”
“And yet I can name two handfuls who saw harm, saw death. It was better for them they die. Better they do not try to live where they could not understand. Blythe needs time, Erick. Give it to her and she will flourish.”
Eowils leaned into Halfdan’s shoulder. “Who is it you have taken as a wife, brother?”
He murmured the words, but I heard him.
“This one is,” a hesitation then, “no thrall.”
“She is not.” Halfdan agreed.
Erick stared at me with the smile I associated with one of the spells the brothers had told about. He seemed to hang on to my every word.
“And would her time with me not help?”
“She fears you.”
Erick nodded, patted my shoulder, then stood to look at Halfdan. “A rumor, Halfdan, that you are a marked man.”
Then he nodded at us and left.
Eowils grunted. “As I said,”
I turned to look at him. “Why?”
“Later, vixen. This is not the place.”
23
Our afternoon in town turned into spending all day, and into the evening. We left as night fell.
Halfdan rode with me, settled before him on the mare, and Eowils following behind on his own stallion.
“Why are you marked, Halfdan Hringrson?”
He kissed the back of my head. “I made it West when many others did not.”
“And this Jarl wants that for himself.”
He nodded. “He does.”
I smoothed against him to rest my head on the front of his good shoulder. “And why I saw Blythe’s name on the mouths of many men?”
“It is.”
“And of me?”
“None dare it,” he replied into my hair.
“How can one man be so liked and so hated at once?”
“Am I hated, vixen? Is that what you saw?”
“Envied,” I corrected. “Yet, most men would follow you were you to say it.”
“It is why Thorsson sees a risk when he thinks to look at me.”
“She is a girl, not a woman, Halfdan. This deception you used her in will see her harmed should you not put it right.”
“What would you have me do?” He slipped one arm around my waist.
“We are to tell this Jarl all that we know, is that not the way of it?”
“It is.”
“Blythe’s knowledge is merely the regions where you already plundered.” I rubbed the stitching on the sleeve of his arm. “Then, perhaps they will leave her be, her knowledge already conveyed.”
“And of you?”
“I am your wife, Halfdan. Jarl Thorsson may ask, and I may speak enough, but to you, I will share true what I know.”
He caressed my neck. “What else would you tell me true, vixen mine? For even Eowils’s dense wit finds much still unknown in you.” He kissed behind my ear. “And you are not my wife.”
“In all but name,”
He laughed against me, and I shivered.
“True.”
“I will support you, Halfdan. I will see you upon that man’s seat ere the next winter falls.”
He inhaled. “Powerful words.”
“It is time you take what ought to be yours.”
“If the gods listen to our idle chatter and mark it. I have what is mine, vixen.”
I peered up at him over my shoulder. “You are meant for more.”
He leaned over and planted a deep kiss on my mouth, his need a spear that sought for me.
“Be with me,” he whispered.
“Can you not?” Eowils snarled from behind us.
He chuckled against my head. “What would you have me do, vixen of mine?”
“Find favor with one more powerful than this, Thorsson. Gain support for your position and take it.”
“It will be winter soon,” he mused, face still in my hair. “Still, we will talk more of it. And you may tell me what you know,”
“I will show you, Halfdan. I will show you where to go. You will get ships and the men you want with you and you will raid those lands to return more powerful.”
“Mm, so you say,�
��
“So I know.”
Back at home, Blythe and the children already slept. Despite the lingering desire in his blood, Halfdan settled at the table with me to speak of the future.
“Tell me, why do you want to see me seated as jarl, vixen?” He smiled at me over the rim of his cup. “Is it power you seek from me?”
“It is power I seek for you. This Thorsson has too long ruled. He grows lax and unkind with those who follow him. He threatens, yet sees threats in all. What kind of man is that to follow?”
“None, if it is as you say.”
“And you do not believe it thus?”
He stretched so that his legs rested on either side of mine beneath the table. “I am curious what you see.”
“I see that he has outlived his usefulness, and he carries fear in his heart. He is not worthy any longer, Halfdan.”
“You see much.” He nodded. “Whose alliance would you have me make?”
I shook my head. “When a man cannot speak a problem to his jarl, to whom does he speak?”
He lowered his head, wiped at his mouth with his fingers. “A king.”
“Is there? A king?”
“Yes. There is.”
“Who?”
“Sigfred.”
“You know this man?”
“Mm.”
Though he didn’t answer my question, I knew by the look in his eyes that he did.
“Would he come to your aid?”
“For what reason, vixen? I would need more than to oust Thorsson.”
I nibbled my lower lip, something Halfdan appeared to find difficult to ignore as his own lips parted and he licked them.
“Do the man some favor.”
“Such as?” He leaned across the table,” eyes dancing with humor. “What favor would I do a king, Nerys Elen?”
“You are thinking with your cock again.” I frowned. “Think more of your future.”
He laughed, then kissed me. “What of it?”
“You would prefer to get on my thighs, then? Or speak yet of this?” I reached behind to tug his braid.
He laughed low in his throat, kissed me again. “This now.” He rose. “There is all the winter to talk.”
With a laugh, I crossed to him. “Where does this king reside?”
He tugged me toward the bed. “Forget the king.” He kissed me as he fiddled with lifting my skirts.