Her eyelids fluttered down, and she gradually fell into a peaceful sleep, her dreams of a man with sky-blue eyes.
* * *
When Mist awoke the next morning, she saw something she hadn’t seen in several days. Sunlight poured in through the open door, lighting the house. She could tell that most of the people who had been entrenched inside were now gone.
Mist pushed away her bear pelt blanket and scrambled from her bed. She hurried over to the open door and looked outside, her eyes going wide at the sunshine bathing the landscape in the steadily decreasing light of winter.
Sometime during the night, the wind had shifted, blowing the remaining ash back to the other side of the island. Much of the ash that had fallen on their farm was gone.
She lifted her eyes to the sky and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. The budding faith that she clung to so tightly opened even further. She turned back inside and hurried to get dressed so that she could explore the farm for any damage that might have been done.
Brita was already busy preparing to break the fast. Mist stopped by her side, anxious to be outside but fully aware of her duty.
“Is there anything that I can do to help?”
Brita shook her head. “No. I can handle it.” She gave Mist a knowing smile. “Go ahead.”
Mist needed no further bidding. She ducked out the door and stopped to allow her eyes to adjust to the light.
As she wandered through the farm, she noticed heavy pockets of ash piled against objects that had stood in its way. Wherever ash had met water, it had congealed into a rock-hard mass.
Her aunt and the farming thralls were busy trying to recover the garden behind the storage buildings. They were raking back the ash to allow the sunlight to get to the vegetable plants. Other thralls were taking the cattle out to pasture farther inland, their first time out in days, as well.
Mist remembered Valdyr talking about taking the ship to the other side of the island and quickly made her way to the harbor.
Valdyr and his men were busy on the longship, unloading the oars, shields that hung on the side and the wool sail. After emptying the boat, they used shoveling tools to dig out the ash and throw it over the side.
Her father was standing next to Valdyr, watching the work. Mist made her way to them, noting their grim faces.
When Valdyr turned those ice-blue eyes on her, she felt that familiar tingle along her body, all the way to her toes.
“Do you still plan on making a trip to see the fire mountain?” she asked.
He nodded. “Your father is concerned about the welfare of those living close to it.”
She nodded. The same thought had occurred to her. Many in the vicinity were friends, some distant relatives. “I would like to go with you.”
He was already shaking his head before the words made it from her mouth. She gave a sigh of frustration. Her father glanced from Valdyr’s set face to Mist’s equally determined expression.
“We need your help here on the farm,” her father told her, trying to stave off confrontation.
She glared at Valdyr. He wasn’t her husband yet, so why did he think he had any say over her actions?
“Brita has enough help. I need to see what damage has been done, and if there is anything we can do to be of assistance.”
Valdyr threw back his head, folded his arms across his chest and glared right back. If he hoped to turn her into a quivering mass of jelly he was doomed to disappointment. The only time those blue eyes had any such effect on her was when the look in them made her flatteringly aware that she was a woman.
“Mist is right,” her father said surprisingly. “She knows every nook and cranny on this island. She would be a great help to you.”
Something in Valdyr’s expression made Mist pause. “The trip will take some time as I intend to explore the island, and there will be little privacy on the open sea,” he said.
Before her conversion, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but she remembered Drustan’s words about men’s desires and a woman’s responsibility to act and dress modestly. The gleam in Valdyr’s eyes did nothing to relieve her hesitation, but her pride made her push such thoughts aside. She wouldn’t have the men believe that she was some weak woman they could take advantage of.
“I will make do,” she told him.
Their warring gazes clashed like steel swords. Valdyr said nothing for a long moment. Breathing in a frustrated breath, he said, “As you wish. We will be leaving within the hour.”
Mist nodded. “I will gather some supplies.”
She could feel Valdyr’s penetrating eyes on her back as she retreated. When her father had sided with her, she had felt a childish desire to stick out her tongue at her intended husband. The temptation to look over her shoulder and do so now was strong, but she ignored it.
* * *
Valdyr watched her walk away, pushing down the irritation he felt. It had taken no imagination to read the look in her eyes. It plainly let him know that he was not her husband yet. Well and good, but when he was, things were certainly going to change.
At Bjorn’s call, he pulled his gaze from Mist and made his way to the ship to help with the cleanup. He met Egil’s amused look before the older man turned and followed his daughter. It was easy to see where the woman got her irritating ways.
They were almost finished when Mist returned with several thralls carrying large baskets of supplies.
Valdyr slowly rose from his kneeling position where he was brushing the ash from the overlapping planks on the outside of the ship. He looked at Mist in astonishment.
“I had not intended to stay very long,” he told her.
She motioned to the thralls to load the baskets onto the ship. “It is better to be safe than sorry.”
Valdyr studied her in narrow-eyed appraisal. What on earth was the woman thinking? The ship would be cramped enough as it was with him taking all twenty of his men to more speedily row to the other side of the island and back again. Winter was fast approaching. “Surely you cannot believe that my men are that ravenous,” he mocked.
He was brought up short by something curious in her expression. He frowned, glancing from Mist to the loaded baskets.
“The supplies are not for us, are they?” he asked suspiciously. His guess was proven correct when several other thralls followed from the house, also loaded down with baskets of food.
Valdyr hesitated, knowing that the suffocating ash was going to wreak havoc on their own gardens. Much of the area was still covered by ash that had mixed with moisture and become very like the Romans’ cement. He was having a hard enough time scraping it from the hull of the ship. If they didn’t get it removed, it would weigh the ship down and clog the air passages between the planking that allowed for swift movement. There was no telling what damage had been done to their crops.
At the same time, there were probably others in much worse condition. He should have thought of that. On such an isolated, inhospitable island, it would be prudent to be of assistance.
He glanced back at Mist. “Do you need any help?”
Seeing that he understood what she was about, she smiled. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He bent to the task at hand, more to avoid looking at Mist than because there was much left to do.
“We are almost ready to leave,” he told her. “Would you let your father know?”
As she turned to leave, the breeze she stirred wafted her scent to him, a curious mixture of the fresh outdoors, the scent of baking bread and the woman she was. Breathing deeply, it affected him in ways he was unprepared for. His mental image of her as a shield maiden was replaced by a picture of her lovingly tending her niece, who then in his mind became a babe; his babe.
His breathing hitched momentarily. Strong attraction was tempere
d with an even stronger desire to protect her from anything and anyone, including himself. Now wasn’t that just a fine kettle of fish.
Chapter 6
They set out much later than Valdyr had anticipated, so he decided to go with the current that flowed westerly around the island instead of rowing against it and shortening the distance. It would also give him an opportunity to see more of this island of ice and fire.
He glanced at Mist sitting in the center of the boat, her eyes closed, her face lifted to the cool ocean breeze as the sail caught the wind and they plowed along, the longboat skimming through the water with ease. The sunlight reflected off her vivid red hair, giving it shimmering gold highlights. His breath caught in his throat at the picture she made. Her attractiveness was steadily growing on him and his fascination with her was mounting daily regardless. It was going to be a long winter if he had to be holed up at the farm during the cold months, watching her day in and day out, yet wait until autumn to make her his wife.
The dread he had felt sailing here had long ago been replaced with anticipation that had crept up on him unaware. He had always been a man who liked a challenge, and Mist had been a challenge from the start. He was having a hard time deciding if it was his desire to conquer that was plaguing him, or an actual interest in the woman.
Motion off to his left took his attention. A whale suddenly breached the surface, its black-and-white body arcing gracefully into the air before slamming back into the sea, shooting a spray of water high into the sky. A familiar thrill coursed through Valdyr as he watched the whale disappear below the surface once again.
The ripples from the breaching whale shook their ship as they plowed through the water, the strong currents and ocean breeze making quick work of the distance they were traveling.
His men glanced at him in expectation, their excitement evident. He hesitated, the desire to hunt surging through him, but then he shook his head and the men settled back into a brooding silence. He could well understand their disappointment. After several weeks of farming life, the longing for the excitement of a hunt was growing strong among them all. Unlike their brethren, they were seafaring men who followed the strong pull of adventure. Lately, though, he found his own desires being pulled in a much different direction, particularly toward the woman in his ship.
He noticed that Mist’s attention had been arrested by the whale, as well. She continued to search the rippling water, obviously hoping for another sighting. Her patience was rewarded minutes later as the whale surfaced again, its path taking it away from them on its winter migration route.
He took a seat near her. His heart rocked quite heavily when she turned on him those glowing green eyes sparkling now with her pleasure at having seen such a marvelous sight.
“They never cease to amaze me,” she said, her breathy voice increasing his heart rate to match the swift rowing of the oars.
Vexed by his physical reaction to such a paltry thing, he gave her a halfhearted smile. “Nor me. It pains me when I have to slay one.” Killer whales were fierce predators, free and wild, and he felt a certain kinship with them in his spirit. They didn’t go quietly in battle, and often the hunter became the hunted.
Her return smile was full of understanding. Although farmers, their people’s livelihoods were heavily dependent on the sea and everything in it. It was a greater source of nourishment during the long, dark winters. A single whale could feed a colony for much of the winter. Perhaps he should have given more consideration to the chase, but he was more intent on reaching the fire mountain, and he was also concerned about Mist’s safety. Whales had been known to sink a longship. There would be time enough for hunting later.
They sailed always within sight of Iceland’s shores, but the spewing mountain disappeared as they rounded the southwest side of the island. Here, everything looked normal. The windblown ash hadn’t reached here. They passed peaceful farms nestled into the rocky hillsides, their tenants going about their daily business, stopping to stare at the passing ship. Regardless of imminent threats, life had to go on.
The land on this side of the island was impressive. The farms were widespread, and Valdyr could see that come summer, the area would be richly green. Egil’s farm was good, but these were excellent. This is where the first settlers landed and took the choicest locations.
Valdyr took the opportunity to study the areas as they sailed along. He was impressed with the amount of fish in these waters, including whales, seals and dolphins. Where larger fish congregated there would have to be a source of smaller fish for them to survive, and those smaller fish would sustain his people, as well. The stockfish here had turned into a great source of trade, the wind-dried cod was easy to transport. The skreid was extremely popular back on the mainland.
When they landed each evening he made treks inland to scout out the land and its occupants. Very little wildlife surfaced on the rocky island, but he caught sight of the white foxes and numerous kinds of birds. By the time they had almost reached their destination, Valdyr had concluded that the white bear they had been hunting had not been indigenous to the island. No others had been spotted, and he had yet to see a sign of the one they had been tracking.
After they rounded the northernmost portion of the island, the more apparent the signs of the erupting volcano. Melting ice from the surrounding vicinity had made the rivers rise, their fast-flowing waters rushing across the beaches and emptying into the sea, taking debris with them, including several dead sheep.
Valdyr stared at the chaos grimly. Had the people here escaped with their lives, or were they buried beneath that hardening lava?
Mist picked her way among the men and came to stand carefully beside him in the prow. He glanced down and noticed the look of sympathy on her face.
He shook his head. “It does not look good.”
The loss of life was bad enough, but land was at a premium here, and this portion had just been rendered uninhabitable.
More ash had settled here than on their farm, thanks to the prevailing winds. Farms here had quickly been abandoned as they were swallowed up by the hot river of lava. The still-smoking rocks warned them to keep far away. Frowning, he turned to Mist.
“Where would the people go?”
She nodded her head toward the interior. “Farther inland. Most of the land around the edges of the island has been claimed, at least that which could be farmed.”
When they reached a place where they could finally land, they pulled into shore. Leaving some men to protect the ship, he took the rest, and with Mist along, headed for the interior and the still-flowing mountain. Warriors his men might be, but he had to bite back a grin at the obvious relief of those staying behind. They feared nothing they could actually face in battle; it was the unknown that unsettled them. As for him, he had never really believed in all the stories told to him as a child about the gods his people worshipped and feared. He wasn’t certain what he believed, or if he believed in anything. Still, the eeriness of burning pillars rising from the depths of the smoky landscape set his teeth on edge.
He glanced at Mist and took note of her serene countenance. When others were worried and fretful, she always seemed so at peace. He had noticed that others tended to gravitate to her without even realizing it. She was like the magnetic stones that attracted objects to them without any effort of their own.
Even now, the thought that they could possibly all be slain didn’t seem to faze her. Was she like this when she marched into battle, or was this a result of a conversion to the Christian God? It was getting harder to imagine her as a shield maiden fighting on the battlefield. Where before he could picture her green eyes blazing, red hair flowing about her in a fiery wave, her sword flashing in the sunlight as it cleaved its way through the enemy, now that picture was replaced by her calmly tending a home and children. He wasn’t certain which attracted him most.
He shook his head in irritation. He was becoming maudlin in his aging years.
* * *
Mist followed behind Valdyr, carefully stepping in his tracks through the fine layer of ash that had settled even this far from the area most affected. They had quickly realized that hidden dangers lay beneath the depth of the ashes. Tripping over hidden rocks was bad enough, but what had seemed solid ground had one time turned out to be a cleft in the ground that, filled with the light ash, caused one of Valdyr’s men to sink into a hole up to his neck. Moss-covered stones peeked like a small army of green gnomes out of the ash-blanketed hills.
The closer they got to the mountain, the more foul smelling the air became, much like eggs that had been rotting for a long time. Wrinkling her nose, Mist covered her mouth and nose with her shawl until the wind would shift and push the scent away once again.
By the time they clearly sighted the mountain in the distance, its rocky surface looming upward out of a haze of smoke, Mist was about to drop with exhaustion. Nights trying to sleep in the longship had left her tired and out of sorts, but after miles of walking over the rough ground, she was just about ready to admit that she shouldn’t have come. It irritated her that Valdyr seemed to suffer no such effects. Did the man never get tired?
They stopped to make camp as the sun was beginning its descent. Although there would be dim light left as the sun moved closer to the earth, since it never truly set they would still be able to see for miles, though their visibility would be limited and thus dangerous in such conditions. Whatever their reasons for stopping, Mist let out a protracted sigh of thankfulness.
They set up their camp using the brush they had been able to scrounge together to make a fire. Mist handed out to the men the bread she had brought with her and then collapsed near the fire. Valdyr seated himself next to her on the hard ground and offered her some dried seal meat. She wasn’t particularly fond of the tough and chewy meat, but it was best for use in long trips. She took the meat and thanked him, settling back to watch the shimmering colors of light that began to fill the darkening sky.
The Viking's Bride Page 6