The Viking's Bride

by Darlene Mindrup

Edda finally gave a sigh of capitulation and returned to Iliana’s side.

  Finn turned back to Valdyr. “I will take some of my men with me, and send the others on the horse path with the women and children to Egil’s farm. They should reach the farm about a week after you.”

  The horse paths were worn paths that traversed the island, allowing for faster travel. It was a wise decision to use them.

  “Perhaps I should send half of my men with your men, as well. That way we could take the women and children in the boat.”

  Finn shook his head. “No. It would be better for you to return as quickly as possible to apprise Lord Egil of our imminent arrival.”

  That was probably true. With his cattle and sheep disappearing, Egil was on edge and might possibly see such a large group of men as a threat, especially if he didn’t recognize Valdyr’s men among them.

  “As you wish,” Valdyr agreed.

  Knut stepped to his father’s side. “I will go with the women and children.”

  “No. You will not,” Valdyr disagreed, pulling himself up to his full height. His hostile look met Knut’s, and it took an iron will to keep from knocking the insolent look from the younger man’s face. There was no way that he was going to allow this man anywhere near Mist.

  Finn glanced at Valdyr’s set face. “I agree. I will need you to help me set up the land.”

  Knut glared at both men. “I wish to be with my wife and child.”

  “Then perhaps you wish them to remain here with you,” Valdyr suggested coldly, folding his arms across his chest, his narrow eyes daring Knut to challenge him.

  “No,” Finn answered quickly. “That is not necessary. We will rejoin them later, after we have claimed our land.”

  Knut’s rapid breathing spoke of feelings longing to spew forth. Then he turned and strode off. Valdyr noticed that despite what he had said earlier, he joined his men instead of his wife and child.

  Valdyr felt sorry for Iliana as she seemed to be a nice sort. But truth to tell, he really wouldn’t mind making the woman a widow, and if Knut continued to watch Mist with that look of pure hatred, he would more than likely make it so sooner rather than later.

  Appetites finally replete, everyone settled down for the night in small groups, several fires dotting the darkening landscape to ward off the approaching chill. In the distance, the mountain still glowed red but it was no longer the billowing black mass of before.

  Valdyr seated himself next to where Mist was adding kindling to the fire. She had finally given back Iliana’s baby, but reluctantly. Now she stared mesmerized by the dancing firelight.

  “You are quiet tonight,” he told her.

  One side of her mouth turned up wryly. “You make it sound as though I am normally a chattering jay.”

  Valdyr blew out a scoffing breath. “That can certainly not be said of you.”

  She grinned at him, but said nothing. He waited patiently, hoping that she would share whatever was worrying her. If she was concerned about Knut, she needn’t be. He would protect her with his life, as would any of his men. In the weeks they had come to know her, she had impressed them all; not only with her skill as a swordsman, but with the kind way she had treated everyone.

  She glanced over at Finn, and he saw her eyes soften to a glowing emerald. Jealousy twisted through him, surprising him with its intensity. Could she be enamored of the older man?

  “I am concerned for Lord Finn and his family. The weather here is so unpredictable. And he is a proud man. He will not take kindly to owing any man.”

  She threw a stick on the now glowing embers. Sparks flew up into the air, lighting her face briefly.

  Valdyr followed her look to the man and saw what she was seeing. Despite Finn’s robust physical appearance, his age was telling on him. His shoulders drooped with concern over his family.

  Valdyr glanced back at Mist. “You have strong feelings for the man.”

  It was more a question than a statement and demanded an answer. Her eyes widened at the tone of his voice.

  “I owe him my life,” she told him, and he waited for her to continue. “Before we went to Hafrsfjord, we fought together at Leuven. We were sorely outnumbered, but we made up for our lack of numbers with sheer determination.” She paused, a faraway look coming to her eyes. As she described the battle, he could picture it in his own mind having been in the same situation many times himself. He wondered if his own eyes reflected the same kind of anguish he now saw in hers when he recounted his battles for others.

  “You do not have the heart of a warrior,” he stated quietly, wondering how she had endured such things as she must have experienced. “You are far too soft.”

  Her eyes flashed with enough fire to rival the crackling embers that lit up her angry face. “When it comes to defending my family and my way of life, I can be as fierce as any other warrior,” she disagreed vehemently. But as quickly as her anger had flared, it disappeared. “You are right, in one way. When it comes to pillaging and plundering, burning and slaying just for the sport of it, it makes me ill to even think of such things.” Eyes dark with images only she could see, she told him, “With every life I took I thought about him being someone’s son. Or husband. Or father,” she finished huskily.

  How did this woman ever survive even her first battle?

  “Like your brother-in-law?”

  She said nothing, merely looking at him with those sad eyes full of remembered pain.

  He looked out over the group of people in various stages of retiring for the night and caught Knut once again glaring at Mist. He felt his own rage begin to churn through him.

  “Why does Knut hate you so much?” he asked Mist.

  Mist glanced at Knut. Seeing her attention suddenly fixed on him, Knut turned away, quickly looking elsewhere.

  Mist sighed. “I bested him once in a sword fighting contest.”

  Valdyr could certainly understand the embarrassment of being bested by a woman, but he sensed that Knut’s hatred went much deeper than that. Whatever had caused it, Valdyr knew that he would have to keep a closer watch on the two.

  “You need not concern yourself overmuch,” she told him, seeing his fierce glare at the other man. “Where Knut is concerned, I can take care of myself.”

  “Perhaps,” he agreed. “But know this. As long as I am around, you will not have to.”

  Instead of the hostility he expected, she smiled her appreciation. He returned her smile. He had the feeling that in this emotional game of chess, he had finally managed, for the first time, to put her into check.

  Chapter 8

  A thick fog had sprung up during the night and lay heavy over the land. Disembodied figures moved in and out of sight through the mist as the crew loaded the ship for departure. Voices echoed off the soupy air as mothers called to their children and Finn’s people readied themselves for the long trip across the island.

  Mist sat on the cold ground beside Edda as they waited for the fog to lift. It would be foolhardy to travel in such murky weather. That was one thing about this island of ice and fire; the weather could change in an instant.

  Edda was watching her daughter-in-law as Iliana took leave of her husband. Mist had felt an instant affinity for them both, and was glad that they would be coming to Egilsfjord.

  Knut’s face never softened as he talked with Iliana. Whatever he said made the color flee from her face. She dropped her eyes to the ground in what Mist considered to be a subservient manner that should be restricted to servants, not wives. Her tense shoulders gave a clear indication that she didn’t like what was being demanded of her.

  Frowning, Edda shook her head regretfully. Tucking a straggling gry wisp of hair behind her hustrinet head scarf she told Mist, “Knut could not ask for a finer wife, yet he treats her as a thrall.”

 
Mist was surprised that the older woman would voice aloud the very thoughts that were in her own mind. Knut’s treatment of Iliana was nothing like how his own father treated his mother. She couldn’t help but wonder what made the two so different. They were both warriors, but Finn had a code of ethics that his son was definitely lacking.

  “Was theirs an arranged marriage?”

  Edda hesitated, her look once again straying to the couple. “He chose her and she agreed,” she answered carefully.

  Mist understood what she was not saying. It was not a love match. She turned to where Valdyr was standing next to Finn and wondered if that was what was in store for her. Obviously Knut had desired Iliana in the beginning, but desire didn’t last where love wasn’t present, as well.

  No. That would not be her life. For one thing, Valdyr was nothing like Knut. Watching him with Erika had convinced her of that. For another, she was not meek enough to allow herself to be so abused.

  Instead of commenting on Edda’s statement, Mist told her, “I am pleased that you and Iliana will be accompanying us to Egilsfjord. My sisters will love having you there, and especially little Cecilia.”

  Edda smiled sadly, tears turning her brown eyes into shimmering pools of reflected light. “Children are always a joy. I wish that I had been able to give my husband more children, but the gods decreed otherwise.”

  It was an opportunity to teach the older woman about the Lord Jesus, but Mist sensed it was not yet the time. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and asked, “Your other son—how old is he?”

  Bottom lip trembling slightly, Edda told her, “He was almost fifteen summers.”

  Realizing that she had brought up a painful subject, Mist touched Edda’s arm in compassion. “There is still hope, Edda. Do not give up on him yet.” She would pray for this lost son of Finn’s. God willing, he was safe and would find his way back to his grieving family.

  Sighing, Edda lifted her eyes to the lightening sky, blinking back tears. “Ours is a harsh life, Mist. We expect death, and learn to live with the thought of it.” She slowly pushed herself to her feet, placing her hands against her lower back as she gradually straightened.

  Edda joined her husband to say farewell, and Iliana came over to speak to Mist. The forced smile on the woman’s face made Mist wonder just exactly what Knut had said to her, but she refrained from asking. If Iliana wanted to confide in her, she would, otherwise Mist would not pry.

  Mist reached out for the babe, and Iliana placed her in Mist’s waiting arms. Cuddling her close, Mist glanced at Iliana. The other woman was watching her husband with barely concealed hostility.

  “Is everything well?” Mist asked.

  Iliana straightened her shoulders as she turned Mist’s way. She nodded. “Yes. Everything is well.”

  Valdyr approached them. “The fog has burned away. We are ready to sail. Finn’s expedition party has already left and the others have started the trek to the farm.”

  Mist glanced up in surprise. So intent was she on playing with the babe, she hadn’t even noticed their departure. Iliana hadn’t even made a move when her husband left; sitting in stony silence.

  Hastily getting to her feet, Mist told Valdyr, “We are ready.”

  Valdyr helped Iliana into the ship, and Mist handed her the babe before climbing in herself. Valdyr’s large hands spanned her waist as he lifted her inside, settling her into the gently rocking ship. She caught his gaze, and something in his eyes made her stomach flip oddly. Frowning, she turned away and seated herself across from Iliana, but couldn’t keep her attention from turning back to Valdyr as they pushed off from land.

  Mist grew more excited as each stroke of the oar brought them closer to home. She had sorely missed her family and couldn’t wait to see them again.

  * * *

  Valdyr felt the wind at his back, the smoothness of the ship as it skimmed along, and was oddly discontented. He had always been more at home on the sea than on the land, but something had changed, and he feared it had to do with the woman seated in the middle of his ship, her red hair reflecting sunlight as she searched the sea on either side of them for signs of sea life.

  He joined her, but the ocean remained placid and empty, at least to the casual observer. In the depths, he knew there was a treasure trove of sustenance.

  He glanced from Mist to Iliana and couldn’t help but compare them. Mist’s green eyes were full of fire and secrets that tempted a man to delve into them. Every time he looked into those glowing jewels, his whole being responded to the unintentional invitation he saw there. Iliana’s eyes, while lovely, were subdued, and whatever fire there might have been had been reduced to mere ashes, likely from that scoundrel of a husband of hers.

  Even hidden under layers of grimy ash, Iliana’s clothes spoke of the wealth of her father-in-law, the once exquisite and colorful embroidery turned now to various shades of gray. Mist, on the other hand, did not flaunt her wealth. To the observant eye, one could see that the woolen and colorless kirtle she wore was of the finest quality, as were the brooches at her shoulders that held her apron in place. The colors she wore were earthy, much like the woman herself.

  They made a good pair, he and Mist, as he chose for himself the same set of standards. If he couldn’t receive respect as the man that he was, he didn’t deserve it; he wasn’t about to buy it with costly raiment and jewels.

  His attention turned to Edda sitting next to her daughter-in-law, her thoughts obviously miles away with her husband. Now there was a man worthy of respect, and Valdyr didn’t need Mist to tell him so. His concern for his people was exactly what a chieftain should provide. That the man had weathered some mighty fierce battles was proven by the scars he wore, and he wore them with pride.

  The wind suddenly died and the men took up the oars once again. Their strokes were even and powerful, putting their muscle behind their rowing to get them to the farm before this night was finished. Gulls dipped and swayed overhead, their keen eyesight searching out the food that moved just below the water.

  The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon when Valdyr heard the horn that warned Egil of their approach.

  They beached the boat on the shore near the farm and Egil was awaiting them. Valdyr wondered if Mist had even noticed that her father’s once robust frame was much thinner than when Valdyr had first arrived and that there were dark circles under the elder man’s eyes. Noticing Iliana and Edda, Egil’s brows lifted slightly, but he said nothing.

  Valdyr leaped from the ship into the water, then turned to help the women over the side. His eyes met Mist’s and he saw the hesitation in them. She reluctantly placed her hands on his shoulders as he once again wrapped his hands around her waist. Her waist was so tiny, his fingers almost touched, and he felt again that desire to safeguard her from whatever perils she might face.

  He forced himself to break their connection and lifted her out of the ship. She turned when he set her down and reached out to take the babe from Iliana, then approached her father.

  “Welcome home, dóttir.”

  Mist smiled. “Thank you, Far. I have brought company.” She turned to introduce the women. “This is Lord Finn’s wife, Edda, and her daughter-in-law, Iliana.”

  Egil’s eyes narrowed. “Finn One Eye?”

  At Egil’s tone, Edda’s voice wavered. “Yes, my lord. Our farm was destroyed by the volcano. He has gone to find another place farther inland where we can begin anew.”

  Egil glanced from Edda to Iliana, and then to the babe. He slowly nodded his head, his silence showing that his mind was busy figuring out the complexities of this unexpected turn of events. He finally gave a forced smile.

  “Welcome, my ladies. My home is at your disposal.”

  Valdyr noticed Mist’s shoulders relax, her relief evident. “And this, Far, is little Cecilia.”

  Unim
pressed, Egil turned to a thrall standing at his side. “Show the women to the house.” The look he gave Mist was undecipherable. “You go with them and introduce them to the family.”

  Mist glanced from her father to Valdyr suspiciously. Nodding, she told the women. “This way.”

  They followed behind her, and Egil watched until they were clearly out of hearing distance before turning to Valdyr.

  “I was concerned about supplies before, but now moreso.”

  Valdyr frowned. “Is it as bad as that?”

  “Worse.”

  * * *

  Mist wondered what her father had to say to Valdyr, resenting the fact that he was treating Valdyr as though he was already head of the family.

  She brushed aside her feelings and turned to Edda as they entered the small antechamber of the house. Mist had never seen Finn’s farm and wondered how her father’s compared. Would the women be comfortable here? They had little choice, but still, Mist wished for them to feel at home.

  Brita glanced up from where she sat near the hearth, sewing a garment. She hastily rose to her feet, laying the garment aside.

  “Mist! Welcome home!”

  She quickly crossed the room, her eyes on Edda and Iliana.

  “Brita, I would like you to welcome Edda and Iliana. They are from Reydarfjord on the other side of the island. Their farm was destroyed by the volcano and they will be staying here while Edda’s husband searches out new land.”

  Brita ducked her head slightly in acknowledgment. “You are most welcome. Come inside near the fire. I will get you something to eat.”

  “Thank you, my lady,” Edda answered. “We do not wish to cause you any trouble.”

  Brita’s face softened. “Please, call me Brita, and it is no trouble at all.”

  Mist caught movement from the back of the house and saw Astrid coming toward them, Bjorn just behind her. Mist made the introductions once again.

  Bjorn looked past her. “Valdyr?”

  “He is at the ship talking to my father.”

  He left the house, and Mist turned to her sister. She had never seen Astrid looking lovelier. Her sister fairly glowed, the blue color of her tunic giving her eyes an extra sparkle. Mist cocked an eyebrow.