Viking: Legends of the North: A Limited Edition Boxed Set

by Tanya Anne Crosby

  A tap on her arm made her turn and look down. A boy of about eleven was holding out a folded piece of parchment. Saying something in Norse, he thrust the paper into her hands.

  “What is it?” Josette asked.

  “I do not know.” Brow furrowed, Avril opened the page to find two lines written in French.

  I wish to speak with you. The child will show you where. Nina.

  She glanced up, wondering what Nina could possibly want with her. Searching the crowd, Avril did not see her—but she did notice Hauk looking this way again.

  Keeping her back to him, she folded the note and slid it into the sleeve of her gown. It would be impossible to go anywhere without him following her.

  “Thank you,” she said to the boy, “but Nina will have to wait.”

  “Who?” Josette asked curiously.

  “No one of importance.” After sending the lad away, Avril linked her arm through Josette’s and led her onward through the milling townspeople. She stopped near a group gathered around a piper, whose playing was both merry and loud enough to drown out their conversation.

  Avril took Josette’s hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Her friend had been uncharacteristically quiet this evening. “Josette, all will be well, I promise. Do not be afraid. We do not need the others. You and I can manage on our own.” She smiled. “Think of it as an adventure, the sort we always loved when we were small—the two pirates of Morlaix ride the high seas again.”

  “The two pirates of Morlaix.” Josette’s expression was wistful. “We had such fun in those days, Avril. You have always been my closest friend—”

  “And I always will be. And I am sure we will reach home safely. Using Hauk’s boat will make our journey much easier and less dangerous.”

  “But...” Josette glanced away, chewing at her lower lip. “You said you do not even know where his boat is.”

  “True.” Avril flicked an irritated glance in Hauk’s direction. “He would not let me venture out today, but mayhap on the morrow, when everyone is tired from the festivities, we will be able to slip away and search for it. I was able to find out from Hauk that Antwerp is no more than three days distant,” she whispered. “Were you able to discover any helpful information? Did you learn aught from Keldan about which direction we must sail to reach home?”

  “Well, I—” Josette cleared her throat. “Avril, I have been trying to think of a way to tell you this. Today I...”

  “What, Josette? What did you learn today?”

  Josette blushed to the roots of her brown hair.

  And Avril felt her heart thud against her ribs, suddenly guessing that her friend had not been quiet and awkward tonight because of fear about their upcoming voyage.

  “Josette,” she said hollowly, full of dread. “What have you and Keldan been doing since I saw you last?”

  “Berries!” her friend blurted. “Today w-we were picking berries.”

  “All day?”

  Josette had turned as red as a berry herself.

  “God’s breath, Josette, tell me he did not—”

  “Nay! I... h-he only kissed me. And... and...” She stared at the ground as if fascinated with the toes of her slippers. “Well, he is a carpenter, you know, and...”

  Avril regarded her in complete puzzlement.

  “He has...” A hint of a smile curved Josette’s lips—the same blissful smile all the other brides had been wearing. “Very sensitive hands.”

  Avril felt as if one of the boulders the men were throwing had landed on her. “Josette, you cannot be thinking—nay, we must return to France! I have to get home to Giselle, and you—”

  “What?” Josette raised her head. “What do I have waiting for me at home in France?”

  Avril frantically searched for a way to make her see reason. “Your brothers! What about your brothers? I am certain they are mad with worry that you are missing.”

  “Aye, I am certain they are mad.” Josette nodded. “Mad that I have caused them such trouble. Mad at the thought that they might be asked to pay a ransom to get me back.” She shook her head, sadness in her eyes. “My family is not like yours, Avril. They never were.”

  “I know that. Oh, my friend, I know.” Avril took both of Josette’s hands in hers, holding tight. “But you cannot be thinking of... of...”

  “Of accepting a sweet and caring and gentle man as my husband?”

  “He brought you here against your will!”

  “But is that so different from the way women marry in France? If I were at home, my brothers would be choosing a suitor for me. From the day a woman is born, her father or brothers or overlord rules her life. They decide what we do and where we live and whom we wed. What woman ever lives by her own will?”

  “I live by my own will,” Avril declared hotly.

  Josette pulled her hands free of Avril’s. “Your own marriage to Gerard was an arranged match.”

  “That was different.”

  “Why? Because you fell in love with him? Because he made you happy? Avril, I remember your letters from the weeks after your wedding—how you spent all your time fighting with him, crying, wanting to come home to Brittany because you thought you had made a mistake.”

  Avril folded her arms and looked away, uncomfortable at the reminder, barely able to remember that time in her life when she had so disliked Gerard. It seemed as distant as the stars that speckled the night sky overhead.

  “And then you grew to love him,” Josette continued softly. “I have to confess, I never truly understood how your feelings for him could change so completely.” Whispering, she glanced over at Keldan. “Until now.”

  Avril did not know what more to say. She felt helpless, stunned.

  Lost.

  “I have been happy here,” Josette continued gently. “Happier than I ever was at home. Asgard is such a peaceful place—have you noticed that no one carries weapons?”

  “Nay.” Avril had not noticed. She glanced at the people milling around, at the men on the other side of the clearing.

  Not one was carrying a sword, or even a knife.

  Except Hauk, who was armed with both.

  “How odd.” She frowned. “These Vikings do not at all match the savage reputation their kind have earned over the centuries.”

  “Aye. Apparently fighting is not allowed among these people,” Josette said. “Any disputes are settled by their council of elders. There are no wars here, no battles. They take their laws most seriously.”

  “But, Josette, I still think you are making a mistake. There is too much we do not understand about this place and these people. Such as where all the older people might be.” She studied the crowd, noticing again that only a handful were beyond their middle years. “They may have some sort of shortened life span. Or mayhap the men die at a young age,” she added, seeing a few couples in which the wives seemed older than the husbands.

  Then another fact struck her, one she had not noticed before. “And do you see any young children here? Or any babies? I do not think I see anyone younger than... than eight or nine.”

  “The littlest ones would all be abed by this hour, would they not?”

  “True,” Avril admitted. “But, Josette, do you not see that you cannot—”

  “Avril, please. Do not try to change my mind. I have always allowed others to make my choices for me. For once, I...” Her voice faltered, then grew stronger. “I am making a decision for myself. I want to stay here. With Keldan.”

  Avril’s throat felt dry. Her voice became hoarse. “Josette, you have been my closest friend since I was... since I was old enough to know what a friend is. How can I simply leave you behind?”

  “I do not want to lose you, either, my beloved fellow pirate of Morlaix.” Josette hugged her. “But I cannot go with you.”

  “And I cannot stay.” Avril held on tight.

  “I know. I am sorry that you have to do this alone.” Josette stepped back, wiping at her eyes. “But I will do whatever I can to hel
p you, Avril. I promise I will find out the information you need and bring it to you as soon as I can.”

  Avril could only stand mute as her most cherished friend hurried off into the crowd—toward her husband.

  The sounds of the festivities were but a muffled hum, here a few streets away from the clearing, in the silent, almost deserted town. Avril kept glancing behind her, but she had chosen her moment carefully, waited until Hauk’s attention was elsewhere. He had become embroiled in a lengthy conversation with the elder who looked like his relative, and she had seized the opportunity to slip away.

  She edged into the darkened space between two dwellings, following the boy who had led her. “Nina?” she whispered.

  “My dear child, what a pleasure to see you again,” Nina drawled, stepping out of the shadows. The jewels on her fingers flashed in the moonlight as she waved the boy away. “You certainly took your time. I do have better things to do than wait for you all night, you know. And the air is taking on a chill—”

  “I am sorry for the delay.” Avril darted a nervous look behind her.

  “I take it you have decided at last that I am worthy of your trust?”

  “Mayhap,” Avril replied uneasily, not about to reveal the truth.

  I have no one else to turn to. Her throat threatened to close. She prayed that she could trust the woman. That Nina truly meant to help her rather than harm her.

  “Do not fear, silly utlending.” Nina sighed dramatically. “I would not have gone to this trouble, and come all this way to see you, if I meant to do you ill. My friends and I have been enjoying a private gathering in my vaningshus this evening—”

  “Private gathering? You did not attend the celebration?”

  Nina laughed as if the very idea were ridiculous. “Nei. I am playing hostess to some of my fellow innfodt women who chose not to attend tonight’s celebration.” She crossed her arms. “Because we see no reason to celebrate.”

  “I see,” Avril said warily. “And you have left them in order to speak with me.”

  “I told you when we last parted that I would be willing to help you in any way I can.” Nina paused. Her lashes swept downward to conceal her gray eyes, and for a moment, the frost melted from her voice. “I may not be a mother, but I can imagine how you must feel, being separated from your little one.”

  Avril finally recognized the emotion that tinged Nina’s voice, the one she had not been able to identify before.

  Envy.

  “You do not have children of your own?” she asked gently, her heart filling with sympathy for the older woman.

  “Do not pity me, utlending.” Nina looked up sharply, her gaze once again cool. “I am quite happy with my life. I am an adoring aunt to my nieces and nephews, I have my work as a jeweler, and I may even have a husband one day—if the best men of Asgard would give up this foolish tradition of bringing home foreign brides.”

  “Do you mean you can only choose among the men of Asgard?” Avril asked in confusion. “The women here are not free to venture out and seek foreign husbands?”

  “Women are hardly capable of kidnapping men,” Nina scoffed.

  “A woman as beautiful as you would hardly need to resort to kidnapping to attract a husband.”

  Nina’s red lips curved in a smile. “I do adore flattery. But unfortunately, there are laws and traditions that prevent such—”

  “Laws that apply to the women and not to the men?” Avril shook her head. “That is unfair. Mayhap you and your innfodt friends should start a new tradition.”

  Nina arched one auburn brow. “What bold ideas you have, little utlending.” She looked away, musing half to herself. “Women going on a Claiming voyage. Mayhap...” Then she flicked one bejeweled hand in an impatient gesture. “This is all most interesting, but you and I really do not have time—”

  “Aye,” Avril agreed, glancing over her shoulder again. “As soon as Hauk realizes I have left the festivities without him, he will begin searching for me.” She returned her attention to Nina. “We need to make plans. I want you to take me to Hauk’s boat on the morrow—”

  “That may no longer be necessary. As I started to explain, before you began asking so many questions, I discussed your plight with my friends this evening. And one of them told a tale you may find of interest.” She smiled, looking quite pleased with herself. “I believe I have found you another boat, my dear. One that is much closer at hand than Hauk’s.”

  Avril gasped, overcome with surprise. With hope.

  “Well, do not stand their gaping.” Nina motioned for Avril to join her and started down the street. “We may have little time to spare. Let us be on our way.”

  “You mean to take me there now? Tonight?”

  “Aye, unless you prefer to take your chances in the western forest.” Turning, Nina planted her hands on her hips. “I for one have no desire to end my days as a wolf’s toothsome tidbit.”

  Avril moved forward a step, then paused, looking back. She could still see the glow of the celebration that lit the night sky, could hear the distant strains of music and laughter.

  Nina released an exasperated sound. “Do you wish to escape or not?”

  “Aye,” Avril said, her voice wavering, before she repeated it more firmly. “Aye.”

  “Then come along, my dear.” Nina turned to lead the way through the darkened streets. “If all goes well, you will be leaving Asgard tonight.”

  “I do not believe I have ever seen you clean-shaven, Valbrand. Ja, that is what seems different about you.”

  “Can a man not change one aspect of his appearance without half of Asgard making comment?” Hauk grumbled, wishing everyone would stop noticing.

  Hamar, the ale maker, laughed heartily as he refilled Hauk’s cup. “Nei, not if he has worn a beard for as long as you have.” He scratched at his own thick red whiskers, winking. “But then, a married man must think of his wife, must he not? Ladies are so accursed reluctant to kiss a man with whiskers.”

  Hauk muttered an oath into his cup while Hamar moved on with his jug of ale. His uncle Erik, standing beside him, chuckled.

  Hauk took a long drink and slanted him a glance. “I am so glad I amuse you, Uncle.”

  “So am I,” Erik replied, in an unusually light mood tonight. “I had forgotten how enjoyable an evening such as this could be.”

  Hauk scowled, wishing he were having so pleasant a time. It had been torture to sit beside Avril during supper, burning for her while she remained cool and remote and resisted all his attempts at conversation.

  If he had dared think he might eventually persuade her to accept her life here, she had disabused him of that notion today. She would never accept Asgard. Or him.

  He had taken her away from her child, an innocent little girl who would grow up an orphan because of what he had done—and for that, she could never forgive him. Not that he could blame her.

  “You cannot begrudge everyone being happy for you,” Erik commented. “You have lived a solitary life for far too long, out on the cliffs. Our people are surprised and pleased that you have brought a new bride to Asgard. That you might at last have a family of your own.”

  Hauk did not reply, seeing no need to explain that there was little chance of that happening. He was not about to discuss the real reason behind his churlish humor tonight, not with his uncle.

  Erik Valbrand was normally aloof, stoic, and a rare visitor to such festive events; he was present tonight only because he needed to introduce the English girl, Blythe, to the island’s unmarried men, so that she might choose a husband.

  At the moment, Blythe stood beside Keldan’s bride, who was cheering Keldan on in the wrestling matches that had begun after the strength competitions.

  Hauk took another swallow from his cup. “My mind has been on my duty tonight, Uncle, not on courting my wife. I should think that would please you.” All night he had been watching the crowd for Thorolf, concerned that the black-eyed knave might come here to cause trouble. But thus f
ar there had been no sign of him.

  His uncle turned to regard him with a more serious expression. “You and your new bride seemed to be getting along well enough during supper.”

  “We managed to be civil,” Hauk said curtly. “We are not getting along.”

  “Indeed? And when do you intend to remedy that?”

  Hauk bit back an oath, which only would have been drowned out by the cheers and shouts that rose as Keldan pinned yet another opponent to the ground.

  Hauk winced as his bruised and battered friend rose and immediately motioned for the next challenger. Kel was trying to exhaust himself into unconsciousness. Which, as Hauk had tried to point out, would not help at all.

  He should know, he thought ruefully—he had tried all day to do the same.

  Only Josette would be able to ease poor Keldan’s suffering.

  “You must give your wife time,” Erik advised. “Show her care and gentleness. And affection.”

  Hauk pierced his uncle with a glare. “That is strange advice, coming from you.”

  Erik Valbrand had shown precious little care or gentleness or affection while Hauk was growing up. He had always been determined that Hauk should be strong enough and tough enough not to repeat his father’s mistakes.

  Not to chase his father’s dreams.

  “Men can change,” Erik said, meeting his accusing glare without flinching. “You can change. You must have a son one day. There must be another Valbrand to carry on the tradition—”

  “By all the gods,” Hauk swore, “that word again.”

  “Ja. Tradition. One day you may wish to turn your attention to other pursuits, and there must be another ready to take your place and serve as vokter.”

  “Are you so dissatisfied with how I have carried out my duties, Uncle?”

  “Nei, that is not what I meant.”

  “I have no intention of abandoning my post,” Hauk said flatly. “I am not my father. And as for my wife—”

  He glanced behind him, to where Avril had been standing the last time he saw her, visiting with Marta and her family.