Frida: Claimed (Viking Guardians Book 3)

by Kaitlynn Clarkson

Torsten hurried to Frida’s side. “Did he harm you?” he asked anxiously.

  “No, but he told me he intends to possess me.”

  “I heard him,” Torsten said grimly.

  “I know not what to do,” she said, fear in her voice. “I am certain he has bad plans for me but I do not know what he will do or when.”

  “Have you told your father?”

  “Father will not listen to me. Fritjof has befriended him and they spend a lot of time together. Father thinks he is wonderful and so does Mother and neither of them will believe me when I tell them what Fritjof is up to beneath their noses.”

  Torsten drew himself up to his full height. Frida had to bend her neck to look up at him. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, with bright blue eyes and short, fair hair. He kept his beard neatly trimmed and his nose was long and straight. His eyes were fringed by the longest lashes she’d ever seen.

  “I am not afraid of Fritjof,” he said. “I will do my best whenever I am around to see that he does not bother you.”

  “Thank you, Torsten. It means a lot that you believe me when even my own family will not.”

  “I have seen it with my own eyes. But even if I had not, I would still believe you. He does not deserve someone like you.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he had said.

  Frida blushed. “You do not know me,” she murmured. “Perhaps I do deserve him.”

  “Never!” he exclaimed vehemently, then felt a blush creeping up his own face as he again realized that he’d revealed more than he intended.

  The oxen began to get restless and Torsten knew he should go. “Be careful,” he warned. “I will try to get Halvar to assign Fritjof more tasks around the village. He should be there helping anyway, instead of moping around here watching you.”

  “Thank you, Torsten,” she replied, flashing him a smile that lit up her soft brown eyes. “I am glad you came along. I was pleased when I saw the oxen coming along the road.”

  As Torsten started walking with the oxen again, he thought about what Frida had said. Was she pleased to see him because he’d scared Fritjof away? Or was it because she’d wanted to see him? Either way, Fritjof was not going to get his way with her. Torsten was determined to do whatever he could to keep Fritjof at bay.

  Fritjof stood looking over his farm. He thought of the day that he would bring Frida back to the village to be his wife. They would live in the longhouse he was working on and she would do the household chores that he hated. His slaves had died or run away after the attack by Taft and he’d been relying on the remaining women of the village to prepare his food, wash his clothes, and do all the mundane chores that he despised. It was fine while they were all sharing a longhouse, but once his house was finished, they would expect him to care for himself. That was a prospect he wasn’t looking forward to; he was too important to be bothered with the menial chores of daily life. He deserved a wife to care for him and bear him children and he’d found one who would be suitable. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted; her reluctance was not going to stop him from having her. She didn’t know a good thing when she saw it. She was already well past marrying age and no one wanted her.

  Well, that was about to change. He would just have to use a different approach to get what he wanted. Oh yes, this was going to be good. He was looking forward to the challenge; it would be a game he would play, one where only he knew the rules. It would be so satisfying when he won.

  “Don’t forget to pack the cooking pot,” Minna told Frida as they were preparing to go to the annual eindingida. Frida was looking forward to the meeting; all the sabbatati Christians of the area gathered for a week to spend time together, worship the Lord, and make new friends from other places. She always came back feeling energized and refreshed. She wondered if she would see Adelmio this year. The previous year, they had only gathered up the courage to speak to one another just before it was time to go home. But she was sure there was a spark of attraction between them. What might happen this year?

  Her thoughts wandered to Torsten, the tall, blond, native of this land of Norowegr who had come to live nearby. He’d been kind to her and they had shared some moments of friendship. For a fleeting moment, she’d wondered if it had been something more. But she’d always thought she would marry one of her own people from another village and the eindingida was the best way for young people to meet life partners. Many happy matches traced their origins to the eindingida and Frida had always assumed that if she were to find a husband, this would be the way it would happen. Now that she was of marrying age, it was more important than ever to attend. She sighed happily, remembering Adelmio’s handsome face and shy smile. Would he be the one for her? Only time would tell. And she couldn’t wait.

  The eindingida took place late in the season after the harvest had been gathered and the farmers had more time. There were a number of Christian villages scattered along the coast; the villagers gathered at a central location and camped in tents and wagons for the week. Sometimes, the weather was cold, but they came well-prepared and all agreed that a little hardship was worth the benefits of the gathering.

  Frida helped Minna arrange the beds in the tent that they pitched on the stone platform built for such a purpose. They placed skins on the floor and laid the beds down over the top. In the morning, they would tidy the beds away so that any guests who came to visit could sit down on a low stool or a cushion if it was too wet to sit outside. They cooked outside, erecting an awning over the fire in wet weather. Frida had discovered that the best way to ignore the discomforts was to focus on the blessings instead. She couldn’t wait to finish the setup chores so she could go and find her friends.

  Sigrid poked her head through the door of the tent. “I have finished setting up the cooking pot, Mother,” she said. “May I go and find Aloysia?”

  Minna looked through the tent door and considered the remaining chores. Satisfied, she nodded. “Just be back in time to help with the evening meal. We need to have it early before darkness falls.”

  “Come on, Frida!” Sigrid exclaimed. “I cannot wait to see Aloysia again!”

  “I will be done here soon,” Frida replied. “You go on and I will catch up.”

  A few minutes later, Frida walked purposefully through the maze of tents and carts, heading for the place that Aloysia’s family usually camped. She wondered what she would do if she came face-to-face with Adelmio. She self-consciously smoothed down her tunic and checked the brooches that held it together near her shoulders. She hoped her hair was tidy. Like most unmarried women, she wore no head-covering; most of her people wore scarves after marriage.

  “Frida!”

  She stopped to see who had called her name. “Kaarina!” she exclaimed. “I had forgotten that you would be here this year. What do you think of it so far?”

  “It reminds me of the spring markets we went to,” Kaarina said. “Except no one is selling anything.” She giggled. “The only thing to sell here is horse manure!” She stepped neatly around a steaming pile deposited by a horse only minutes ago.

  Frida chuckled. “Do not worry, someone will clean it up. We like to keep the camp clean so it is agreeable for everyone. And once everyone has arrived and set up, the horses go in the horse field so they will not be here again until it is time to leave.”

  “It is unlike any experience I have ever had,” Kaarina said. “I never could have imagined the life I now lead while I was living in Myrkvior Fjall. God has blessed me with more than I could dream of!”

  “He does that,” Frida said with a smile, but inside, she was secretly wondering when her blessings of a husband and home would come.

  “Were you going somewhere?” asked Kaarina.

  “Yes, Sigrid is visiting our friend Aloysia. Come. I will introduce you. I’m sure you will like her.”

  As Sigrid and Frida started walking back to their tent after the visit with Aloysia, Sigrid sighed happily. “It is good to see friends again, is it not?” she said.
“It makes me feel good.”

  “It does,” Frida agreed.

  “Have you seen Adelmio yet?” Sigrid asked.

  Frida could feel herself blush. “No, have you?”

  “No … not until now!” Sigrid gestured in the direction of a young man standing beside the makeshift road, talking to another young man.

  Frida took one look and ducked her head. “Shhh! He will hear you!” she hissed.

  “Greetings, Adelmio!” Sigrid called cheerfully as they approached.

  Frida grabbed her arm and pinched it. She wanted to tell Sigrid to be silent but they were too close and Adelmio would hear her.

  “Greetings, ladies,” Adelmio replied courteously. “It is a fine afternoon for a stroll, is it not?”

  Frida gave him a tentative smile but allowed Sigrid to answer. “It is,” she agreed. “We shall see you later, shall we?”

  “I will be at the meeting,” he promised.

  Frida felt her heartbeat quicken. She wondered what would happen the next time they saw each other. Would they get to talk?

  CHAPTER 3

  Torsten paused to greet Halvar as he hauled another log towards his new home. It was nearing completion and he was looking forward to moving out of the crowded longhouse into his own space. Well, it would be his own once they had finished building Einar a house.

  “Something strange has happened in Merilant,” he said. “I had to go there earlier today and it seems empty and quiet. I hardly saw anyone. What happened to them all?”

  Halvar laughed. “This is the time that the Christians hold their religious festival,” he said. “They will only be there for a little over a week and they will return.”

  “What do they do there?” Torsten asked.

  “I am not certain,” Halvar replied. “But I think they worship their God together and the young people hope to find someone to marry from another village.”

  Torsten felt alarm clutching at his stomach. He thought about Frida, going to the festival and finding a husband from among her own people. “Did Alfonso’s family go?” he asked.

  Halvar chuckled. “If you are asking did Frida go, then yes, she did,” he replied.

  Torsten looked down at the ground. He didn’t know what to say.

  “I have noticed,” Halvar said. “I have eyes.”

  Torsten felt his face grow hot.

  “She is a fine young woman,” Halvar continued. “She would make you a good wife.”

  Torsten raised his head. “But how could I compete with other young men from her people?”

  “Look at Kaarina. She is married to Frida’s brother. It is possible.”

  “His parents were not happy about that match.”

  “They changed their minds in the end. They could see that Kaarina would make Landwulf a good wife and she has. They are both happy.”

  “But I am not of their faith. Kaarina is now one of them.”

  “Perhaps that matters less than being a good person,” Halvar said. “Prove to them that you would make a good husband for their daughter.”

  “How do I do that?” Torsten spread his hands wide. “I have no idea.”

  “I cannot tell you what to do,” Halvar said. “But look for opportunities. When the time comes, you will know how.” He picked up his axe and started walking towards his house. “Have courage, brother,” he called over his shoulder. “It is the brave man that gets the prize.”

  As Torsten continued on his way, anxiety tightened its grip around his heart. Until now, he hadn’t realized how much he thought of Frida. He wanted her to be happy; of course, he did. But he wanted her to find happiness with him, not some other man. How could he convince her that he would be a worthy choice?

  “There he is!” Sigrid hissed, nudging Frida as they entered the large barn used for the meetings. Frida glanced at the wooden benches on the men’s side of the building and saw Adelmio already seated, waiting for the preacher to start. She blushed and Sigrid giggled.

  “Is he not handsome?” she teased.

  Frida dug her in the ribs. “Be quiet!” she said, but there was no malice in her words. “Where is Conrad?”

  It was Sigrid’s turn to blush. “I have not seen him,” she said. “Maybe he is absent this year.”

  The preacher seemed to speak for an unusually long time. Frida found her mind wandering as she cast covert glances over at Adelmio. He seemed to have no problems with fidgeting; he sat still, his face turned towards the front as the preacher spoke. Frida sighed and forced herself to concentrate. This was what they came here for, after all.

  When the preacher had finished, they filed outside into the sunshine. Frida dawdled, hoping that Adelmio might stop and speak to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she spotted him walking towards her, in conversation with another young man she hadn’t met. She held her breath, certain that they would walk past without acknowledging her. But at the last moment, Adelmio stopped.

  “Preacher Engelbert spoke well, did he not?” he asked her.

  His companion stepped aside and waited while they spoke.

  “He did indeed,” she agreed, hoping that he would not wish to discuss the finer points of the sermon. She found herself quite unable to remember a single one.

  “I shall look forward to him speaking again tomorrow,” he said. “Will you be attending?”

  “I shall,” she replied.

  “Well, it is almost time for the ābandmuos. I must help my brothers attend to the chores before it grows dark. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Have a good evening,” Frida said, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking.

  He gave her a brief smile before walking away with his friend. Frida floated back to the tent in a delicious haze of happiness. He’d spoken to her! He’d said he would talk to her tomorrow!

  Six days later, Frida felt sad as she helped Sigrid pack away the cooking pots for the last time. Tonight, they would eat leftovers from earlier in the day and in the morning, they would be leaving to return home. There was one last meeting, one last opportunity to speak to Adelmio. She sighed with pleasure as she thought of all the conversations they’d had during the week after the meetings. True, they hadn’t shared anything personal, instead discussing the meetings or the weather. But that was a start, wasn’t it? Would today be the day that it would turn into something more?

  By the finish of the final meeting, Frida was unable to remember a single thing the preacher said. Her mind whirled incessantly, imagining her final conversation with Adelmio. Would he ask if he could visit her village? That was almost the same as a young man declaring his intentions to court a woman. If the young woman agreed, he would spend some time in her village getting to know her before choosing to declare his intentions or going home. It was a crucial step in the courtship process and she knew that many young men found it daunting. Gerfrid had come home last night with a beaming smile; the young lady he’d been getting to know had agreed that he could visit her village. She wondered if she would get the opportunity to say yes to Adelmio. Would he ask?

  She waited as Adelmio approached, alone this time.

  “Well, here we are, at the end of the eindingida,” he said.

  “It is sad when everyone goes home and we will not see each other again for a whole year,” she replied.

  “It is,” he agreed. “I have enjoyed our discussions.”

  “I have also found them interesting,” Frida replied. She wished their conversation could become more personal. Why did Adelmio only wish to discuss the meetings and the weather?

  “I shall have good news when we meet next year,” Adelmio said.

  “What is that?”

  “I shall be wed to my betrothed, Rosmunda,” he replied eagerly.

  Frida felt faint. “You are betrothed?” she asked weakly.

  “Yes. Rosmunda is from the village of Ulrich. She is not here due to falling ill before her family left the village. She stayed at home with the old people.”

  “When were you betrothed?”
Frida asked, torturing herself by needing to know the details.

  “During the spring,” Adelmio answered. “We shall wed in the coming spring,” he announced proudly. “She is a fine woman. I am sure you would like her. Did you meet her at the last eindingida?”

  Vague memories of a young woman with fair hair pushed into her consciousness but she shook her head. “I do not remember her but I’m sure I shall meet her at the next eindingida,” Frida said, wanting only to escape to lick her wounds in private. “I wish you blessings for your wedding day,” she added. “I must go to help prepare the ābandmuos.”

  “Blessings for the year ahead,” Adelmio responded, turning to walk in the opposite direction.

  It was several days before Frida had the opportunity to examine the events of the eindingida. She kept herself busy as the family packed up and began the slow journey home by oxcart. Sigrid and her brothers bubbled over with enthusiasm about the week they’d enjoyed but she found herself unable to join in their banter. No one seemed to notice that she was quieter than usual and she was grateful for that. She dreaded her brothers finding out the cause of her misery. They would tease her and even if they didn’t intend to hurt her, any mention of Adelmio would probably cause her to melt in a puddle of tears. Why had he waited until the last day to tell her that he was betrothed to another? Why was she foolish enough to hope that he might return her feelings?

  To be fair, they had never spoken of anything personal. She couldn’t blame Adelmio. It was her own fault. All of it. What had begun with such high hopes had crumbled into the bitter ash of disappointment. She would remember this eindingida for the rest of her life. It wouldn’t be because she’d met her husband there. It would be because she’d suffered a broken heart. Someone else was more worthy than she.

  At last, they reached Merilant and unpacked, settling into the routine of their lives again. Frida huddled in her comfortable bed, lying awake long after everyone else had gone to sleep, trying to process the tangled knot of feelings in her chest. Tears seeped from her eyes as she remembered the humiliation of discovering that the man she’d hoped would become her husband had chosen another. They got along so well, yet he hadn’t considered her for a wife. What was wrong with her? Did she do or say something that offended him? Was it the way she looked?