Dalla was not there. Dalla, at least she seemed to want her here. A small sob caught in Merewin’s chest. Oh no, not self pity, she couldn’t give into that. Fury, that’s what she needed to hold onto. Fury at Hauk.
He’d just used her for his pleasure and now that he was done, he would just push her out. The barbarian! Merewin sat down hard on the ledge that had been her small bed. The tears could not be stopped and since no one was about except for a sleeping Bela, she let them flow. Merewin leaned back against the wall, exhaustion rolling over her, and pulled her sleeping pet into her lap to stroke. Bela nuzzled into her as she had many times after Navlin had died, when Merewin had sat alone sobbing in their small hut amongst the oak trees.
“I doona want to go back there, Bela.” There it was out. There was nothing in Northumbria. She had no family there, no real friends. All she had were the trees, the giant oaks that kept her company. Here she had the beginnings of friends, Bera for one. And then there was Dalla, so fragile and just beginning to heal from the trauma of her family dying.
“Dalla needs me, Bela.” The little pet squinted and rubbed into Merewin’s hand. “And Bera and little Alrik, they could be friends. Gamal is welcoming, too.” Merewin wiped at her tears. “That’s settled then, I’m not returning on that bloody boat.” But where would she live here in Denmark?
“Somewhere close so I can see Dalla everyday. She needs a mother. I could act as one.” Bela seemed to nod, her beady look flicking around the room, then she yawned, and settled back down into Merewin’s lap as if all had been decided. “And Vivien could surely use some help around here. It is a big homestead. And Hauk should get some more livestock, a milk cow.”
Merewin cupped Bela, placed her on the fur covering the ledge, and pushed back to her feet. New determination dried her tears. The bag was somewhere in here. Vivien had left it for her. Merewin looked under the ledge. Up against the wall sat the little leather bag of acorns from Northumbria. True it was a little late in the season for planting acorns, but Merewin was determined. Hauk couldn’t send her away. This was her home now. He could send her from his bed, but not from her home. He’d done it before, but she wouldn’t let him do it again.
Merewin marched out of the dwelling into the early evening light. Dalla stood by the stream throwing rocks into it. Merewin stopped next to her.
“Can ye help me with something, Dalla?”
The rocks continued to plop into the rushing water. Merewin grabbed Dalla’s hand and pulled her toward a sunny little patch of land on the far side of the house.
“Let me go!” Dalla tore her hand from Merewin. Merewin bent down to look into Dalla’s red, puffy eyes.
“I’m not the one who wants me to go, Dalla, so there’s no need to be angry with me.” Dalla’s eyes filled with tears.
“Things were,” Dalla paused and swallowed, “better. Better than they’d been for a long time.”
Merewin took a deep breath. “Dalla, I’m not going anywhere.”
Dalla’s gaze snapped up to Merewin’s. “You’re not?”
Merewin shook her head and smiled past her own sadness. “Your father may not want me here, but I’m staying. This has become my home, too.” Dalla smiled broadly. “You’re too important to me to leave,” Merewin said.
Dalla threw herself into Merewin’s arms and hugged her hard. “I won’t let him send you away either,” she vowed.
Merewin took her hand. “Let’s start making this even more of my home.” She poured some acorns into Dalla’s cupped hands. “Where I come from there are a lot of oak trees. I lived amongst them. I think Spring House could use some good sturdy oaks to guard it.”
****
Hauk leaned forward over his horse’s neck as he raced toward the sacred grove. Urgency tugged at him, a need to provide Merewin with the option to stay. She’d always had the option. Why hadn’t he mentioned it?
Hauk pushed his horse along the winding path, his mind still on Merewin. If she didn’t know Spring House was an option, she’d already be making plans to leave, perhaps packing right now, perhaps just hiking away on foot. He cursed under his breath and spurred the stallion into a slow run. The fool woman might just do that, striking out on her own. Why hadn’t he said she could stay at Spring House?
Because she might have said no.
The truth nearly knocked the breath out of him. If she had said no, if she says no, what would it do to him? In that instant Hauk knew, knew why he felt sick at the thought of her leaving. He loved Merewin, loved her and had released her. Cold sweat beaded along his face. His heart pounded like hooves in his chest. He loved her. And the thought of losing someone he loved again made his solid stomach clench.
“By bloody Odin,” he cursed as he headed down the slippery slope to Spring House. He didn’t see anyone outside. Could Merewin have already left? She couldn’t have gotten far. He’d find her. But then what? He’d freed her from being his slave, would he just haul her back after that? Nay, he could not. She could go, but she couldn’t stop him from following.
“Aye, one way or another,” he swore to the wind. One way or another, he’d be with her. But how could he make sure she’d never leave him? There was one way.
Hauk galloped into the yard before Spring House like he was a warrior about to lay siege to a fortified castle. Hens scattered, clucking boisterously. The dog barked viciously as the war horse pawed the air, trying to stop his mad dash.
Vivien poked her head out of the doorway, terror in her eyes and a large knife in her hand.
Hauk jumped down from the lathered horse. “Which way did she head?”
“By Odin, you scared me,” Vivien stammered as she stepped out.
“Merewin, which way did she go?” Hauk all but growled.
Vivien’s eyes widened further and she took a hesitant step back toward the house. She pointed to the right, “back that way.”
“How long ago?
“Not too long.”
“On foot?”
“Aye.” Vivien took another step backwards into the safety of the dwelling.
“Daft woman,” he swore. “Probably didn’t even take any food.”
“Nay.” Vivien’s voice called from inside the house.
Hauk’s long strides tore across the packed dirt into the grass. He’d check telltale markings she would have left to determine her direction, then he’d go back for his horse.
He rounded the corner, his hand pushing away from the log wall as he leapt up the steep slope behind. Hauk stopped. There in the middle of the clearing crouched Merewin and Dalla. They were laughing, and...Hauk took two steps closer. They were digging.
Dalla saw him first and stood up, defiance hardening her angelic features. This was the temper that she had always hid from him, the temper others had warned him about. She placed her small fists on her hips just like a grown woman would do before giving a good scolding. His daughter opened her mouth, but then Merewin stood next to her and caught her arm.
“Dalla this is between yer father and me. Go on down to the house.”
“But Merewin...”
Merewin leaned in to whisper something and then stood up again. “I promise, now go on down.”
Dalla nodded and then made a great show of stomping past Hauk. He turned back to Merewin.
“Why is she angry with me?”
Merewin raked her hair back from her face, which smeared some dirt across her cheek. “I’m not the one who made her angry at ye.”
Hauk was confused. Merewin wasn’t answering him, and she hadn’t left. He looked at Merewin’s dirty skirt and then where she was digging. “What are you doing?”
She raised her chin even higher as if she were the most royal queen, her hair tussled around her shoulders, her hands caked in dirt, her look snapping with defiance. She was beautiful, so beautiful that Hauk was having a hard time deciphering the scene before him.
“I’m digging.”
Digging? Her grave? His grave?
“Has some
one died?” He stepped closer.
Now she looked confused. “Nay.”
“Then why are you digging?” One more step and he stood before her, close enough to grab her if she bolted. His chest unknotted enough that he could breathe again.
Merewin opened a fist to show him a handful of acorns. “I’m growing oak trees here,” she said as if she dared him to contradict.
“Oak trees?” He watched the warrior’s spark in those mossy green eyes.
“Aye, ye have no oaks here, and I live where there are oaks.”
The wind teased a strand of hair so that it moved like a little serpent against her bare throat. Hauk watched the pulse in her neck and swallowed. He remembered how that pulse jumped as he ran his tongue along it the other night. “Aye I have no oaks.”
“Well ye will, I’m planting them here.”
“Because I don’t have any.”
Merewin huffed in frustration. “Nay ye don’t, but ye need oaks. They’re strong and wise and...ye foolish man, don’t ye see that ye need them here?”
“Oaks?” Hauk said and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Aye.” She tipped her face up to stare into his eyes. “And I will tend them.”
“Here? At Spring House?” Hauk’s attention was finally turned back to the option he so adamantly wanted to give.
Merewin looked as if he’d slapped her. She reared backwards out of his hands. “Aye at Spring House. Ye can’t just throw me out. Dalla needs a mother, and I’m the closest one she’s got. I won’t destroy her by walking away.”
“And what about me?” he asked, following. His hands fell once again on her shoulders. He stooped slightly so that he looked straight in her lovely, now confused, eyes.
“What about ye?”
“Will you destroy me by walking away?” There was no humor in his face. He wanted her to see that he did not jest, that he was fully serious. “Because I won’t allow that.” He straightened to his full height so that Merewin had to tilt back to still meet his gaze. “I may have released you, but I don’t intend to let you go.”
Merewin opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. Hauk saw his opportunity and leaned down. He captured her mouth in a full kiss, pouring all his worry and vulnerability into it. He drew her hard up against him. He had her, there in his arms. He wasn’t letting go. She responded under him, kissing him back with growing fervor.
Merewin’s hand unclasped and the small acorns tapped on the ground as they fell. Merewin wrapped arms around his back, molding her body against his. He ached to consume her, absorb her into him. Hauk ran his hands down her curling hair, gathering her even closer into the kiss. If he could make Merewin a part of him, he couldn’t lose her. And that’s where Hauk felt, on the edge of losing her. The thought made him crave more air.
Slowly they leaned apart, each breathing hard. Hauk pressed his forehead against Merewin’s. He bent down, picked up an acorn, then straightened. “You aren’t leaving Spring House.” He put the acorn back in her hand.
Merewin shook her head.
Hauk closed his eyes and breathed in her warm scent. “I released you, Merewin, because I had to.” He looked at her again. “I cannot wed a slave.”
Merewin stared into his eyes. She blinked once, twice. “Wed?”
“Aye.” He said with a nod. He waited.
“Ye mean ye doona wish me to leave?” Merewin asked with a whisper.
“Never.”
“Why didn’t ye say so before?”
Hauk opened her palm, exposing the tiny acorn. “I had to know you wanted to stay.”
Merewin swallowed hard, her eyes sparkling and teary. “Ye could have asked.”
“I’m asking now. Wed me, Merewin, stay with me, stay here with your new family.”
Merewin ran her hands up his arms and tugged on the war braids that hung from his temples so he’d lower his face. She smiled. “Aye, Hauk of Spring House. I will wed ye,” and sealed her vow with a kiss.
****
Merewin had heard of long feasts back in her homeland, though she’d never partaken in one. But the Danes sure knew how to feast more so than any Saxon or Scot.
“The feast will last a full week,” Bera commented, as she wrapped a swath of finely woven cloth around Merewin, while rocking little Alrik’s cradle with her foot.
“A week?” Merewin asked. “Where exactly will we feast for a week?”
Bera brushed her fingers through Merewin’s hair. Merewin would wear it down to symbolize her unmarried state. Bera smiled brightly. “King Lothbrok is so thankful that you will be staying near Port Ribe that he’s offered to host your wedding feast. We will dance and eat, drink, and jest merrily at his grand dwelling.”
Alrik fussed softly and Bera nudged the cradle again with her toe.
Merewin watched it rock gently as her mind drifted over the mountain of details of the wedding later in the week. Everything had been in a whirl since she and Hauk had announced their intent.
Bera and Queen Aslaug advised her on food and drink, clothing and jewelry. Normally there would be years to sew just the right linens and to dream about flowers, but Hauk had insisted on a quick wedding, once Merewin maintained that she’d sleep in Dalla’s room until they were linked by marriage.
Merewin sighed deeply, and rubbed at a nagging ache at the back of her skull.
Bera stopped in mid sentence. “Merewin, it will all work out fine. Leave the food and drink to Aslaug. She’s entertained visiting nobles for years. And she has honey enough to make bridal mead to last the whole month after the wedding as required.” This was an important part of legalizing the marriage. Bera patted Merewin’s hand. “And I’ve already shown you the beautiful crown you can wear.”
“Thank ye again, Bera.”
“It was my mother’s and then mine, and it shall be yours to wear. Of course you are so beautiful that you could wear a circle of dead leaves and my brother would still fight any warrior that tries to take you.” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him so besotted.”
“Besotted?”
Bera nodded as she tried pinning several broaches on Merewin. “Aye. He’s smiling all the time, even when I talk at length. Gamal told me Hauk was humming while he worked on his ship.” Bera stopped and looked up, her eyebrows raised in shock. “Actually humming.” Bera shook her head. “Unheard of. Aye, my brother is besotted.”
A slow smile relaxed Merewin’s face as the ache ebbed away.
“And Dalla. She’s pleasant to be around. She smiles and talks of happy, young girl things.” Again Bera raised her eyebrows in exaggerated shock. “I say, unheard of.” Then she smiled at Merewin and squeezed her hand. “You’ve done wonderful magick here, Merewin, in all our lives.” Bera glanced at her sleeping infant. “Aye, wonderful.”
“I didn’t use my magick for any of these things.” Merewin smoothed the lovely material over her body and viewed herself in the polished sheet of metal Bera had against a wall near her sleeping platform. In the reflection Bera’s face popped up over her shoulder.
“There was definitely magick involved, mayhaps not the magick gifted to you by your mother, but the magick from your heart.”
“Thank ye, Bera. Ye’ve made me feel at home here.”
“This is your home now.” Bera gave her a hug.
“Nay,” boomed a voice from the doorway. “Spring House is your home, woman.” Hauk walked into the dwelling.
Both women jumped at his voice, Bera laughing, and then frowning and shushing as Alrik woke. “My pardons, sister.” He pulled Merewin outside. She laughed as he caught her by the waist and swung her around. The warm sun belied the late fall day.
“Bring her back here soon, Hauk. You know that she’s staying with me until she’s wed to you.” Bera called over Alrik’s wail. “Hauk? Did you hear me, brother?”
Hauk pulled Merewin along until they reached the edge of the woods behind Gamal and Bera’s dwelling. He stopped just inside the shadow of trees and leaned M
erewin against a tall birch. Without a word, his mouth claimed hers. Merewin’s smile was lost in his kiss, and she rested her arms over his broad shoulders.
“Mmmm.” Hauk inched back so that each could catch their breaths. His forehead met her own. “I’ve missed ye,” she whispered.
Hauk growled low in his throat causing Merewin’s heart to hammer inside her chest. “I don’t like this custom of keeping you from me. We’ve already...”
Merewin placed her finger on his lips. “It’s important to yer people. I need them to accept me.”
Hauk nuzzled the side of Merewin’s neck, causing gooseflesh to run down her side. “But if they do not know...”
Merewin’s breath was hoarse in her throat as Hauk’s touch lit through her body. “Do ye have a plan, barbarian?” Merewin smiled coyly.
Hauk pressed a small bundle into her arms. “Wear this and meet me here tonight. No light save for the full moon.” He grazed her neck with his teeth.
“Merewin!” Bera stepped around the house.
“One hour after the house settles down. Here on the hill.” Hauk stepped away, leaving Merewin breathing hard, clutching the soft sack.
“There you are,” Bera huffed. Hauk’s sister looked around. “He disappeared already? Just as well.” Bera wagged her finger at Merewin. “I may not abide all the old traditions, but I do believe in keeping the two of you apart until the wedding. Mostly because it’s driving my brother as insane as Loki.” She pointed to the sack. “What’s that?”
Merewin didn’t know, but instinct told her she may not want Bera seeing what was inside. “Hauk left it with me. I think it is some of my clothing from Spring House.”
Bera looped her arm in Merewin’s. “Back to work then.” She tugged Merewin toward the homey dwelling. “Like I said, we’ll most likely feast for a full week. Hmm, I should stop eating now so I don’t outgrow my gown by the end of the feast.” Bera laughed.
Merewin smiled at her new friend. These people were good, honest, fun people, and most treated her better than any back in Northumbria. Where the Northumbria townspeople were suspicious of her abilities, the Danes seemed to embrace the magick. Except, of course, Hauk, who still seemed grumpy whenever Merewin attended an injured person. Merewin smiled, thinking of him. His short visit filled her with energy.
Magick (The Dragonfly Chronicles Book 2) Page 24