Her attention was quickly drawn to just beyond the new portion of the village, where a large, long structure appeared taking up a good portion of the area.
Her men fell back when Wolf approached and brought his stallion up beside her horse as they ambled toward the structure.
“That’s your new home,” Wolf said.
Her brow wrinkled as she said, “I thought we were to live in the keep”
“It is not to my liking. I prefer the longhouse of my people, though I have added some of what your people are accustomed to,” he admitted.
She shrugged as if indifferent, though she had been looking forward to making her home in a keep once again. “As long as it provides shelter and will keep me warm when cold, I care little about it. Where will my men make their home?”
“I may have forgotten about your men remaining with you, but I can assure you Gorm hasn’t,” Wolf said.
“Gorm?” she asked, though knew full well who he was and intended to learn even more about him.
“The man who oversees things when I am not here and continues to do so even when I am here. And a man who has been a longtime friend. He is the one who made sure our home was built to my specifications.”
When they stopped in front of the longhouse, Wolf summoned, with a wave, a man standing just outside the door.
Raven’s eyes caught on the older woman standing next to him, small in size, her white hair drawn back in a tight braid and pinned near the top of her head. Her age was marked by her many wrinkles, but her eyes were alert and intent on her surroundings. She wondered if the woman was Detta, who Oria had mentioned.
Raven dismounted without any help, not that her husband offered any, and her men remained standing behind her once they dismounted.
The man who hurried forward was shorter than most of the men around him and thick in size. He had blond hair that just touched his shoulders and a full, round face with numerous wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, yet he didn’t appear old. But then that could have been from his smile that seemed perpetual.
“Welcome home, my lord,” the man said.
Raven had forgotten that Wolf didn’t only inherit the land and all its holdings, but the title as well.
“It is good to finally be home, Gorm.” Wolf pointed to Raven without looking at her. “This is my wife, Raven.”
“Welcome, Lady Raven,” Gorm said and appeared to be sincere in his greeting.
“A pleasure to meet you, Gorm,” she said with a smile and ignored the title. If she was going to learn anything from this man, she’d have to befriend him first.
Wolf turned to her then and perhaps reading her mind, though it was more likely knowing his enemy, said, “It would be wise for you to remember that my men are extremely loyal to me.”
“Why should I think otherwise?”
“A thief always looks for opportunities. The only opportunity for you here is to serve me as a good wife. That’s a warning you should heed and I’m sure it’s the first warning among many to come until you learn your place,” he said and turned away.
“I don’t serve anyone,” Raven said and none too quietly.
Wolf made sure his response was heard by more than his wife as he walked over to Gorm. “You’ll learn.” He stopped in front of the man. “Her men will need permanent lodging.”
“It’s been arranged, my lord,” Gorm said, his smile never faltering.
“Good. Have them shown to their lodgings,” Wolf ordered.
Raven had no intention of suffering any of his dictates. “First, show us where our horses will be sheltered so we may tend them.”
“Your horses will be seen to,” Wolf said, dismissing her request with a brief wave of his hand and turning as he spoke. “You’ll come with me.”
“NO!”
Her sharp response had him swerving around and the glare he sent her would have frightened most men.
The man definitely could intimidate with a look alone, but when it came to her men, she defended them regardless of the consequences. “My men and I will see to our horses first, then I will see where you intend to lodge my men.”
Wolf approached her. “None of that need concern you.”
“It is every bit my concern and until I see to it, I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His steps were quick, but she was quicker, her knife out before he reached her.
“I’d think twice about forcing me,” she threatened.
He saw that her men hadn’t made one move to help her, but he could see on their faces they wanted to. Were they that confident in her abilities or were they somehow aware of when to help her and when not to? He had much to learn about this woman.
It wasn’t lost on Wolf that some of his men had now seen his wife pull a knife on him twice or that Gorm had lost his smile, a rarity for him. He couldn’t let it happen again.
“Pull your knife on me again and it will be the last time you do,” he warned loud enough for those around them to hear.
“Don’t threaten me and it won’t be necessary,” she argued and turned quickly to Gorm. “Let’s get this done so my husband isn’t embarrassed when he tries to take my knife from me and fails.”
Gorm’s mouth fell open and Raven’s men chuckled.
“Tread lightly, kona, or you will be very sorry,” Wolf warned and turned away from her, signaling the six warriors who had been by his side since yesterday to follow him and they did, the old woman opening the door to stand to the side then following in after they all entered the longhouse.
Gorm’s smile returned, though not as strongly as before and Raven forced a smile to her face to help ease the man’s worry.
“Follow me,” Gorm said and Raven and her men followed after him.
“Who was the old woman?” Raven asked as she walked alongside Gorm.
“That is Detta. She tends the keep mostly and helps me if needed. She has been here before Wolf took ownership. She is a kind soul and keeps much to herself.”
Raven filed that away in her memory. It meant she had much knowledge of the keep itself and of the surrounding land.
Gorm showed them to several buildings, some new, that housed various animals. She was pleased to see their horses would have a good, sturdy shelter. She and her men tended their animals before continuing on to their lodgings. None said a word about Wolf, nor would they dare do so in front of Gorm. Raven was surprised when Gorm led them to a grouping of six cottages and her men were each given a cottage of their own.
“The whole cottage is for me alone?” Iver asked.
“We don’t all share one?” Fyn asked, just as surprised.
“No. You each have one of your own,” Gorm confirmed.
George smiled. “That means we don’t have to contend with your snoring, Iver.”
Brod laughed. “We’ll hear him straight through the walls he’s so loud.”
It was good to see her men smile, laugh, and tease one another. Life hadn’t been easy and seeing some of that jollity they once shared return warmed her heart.
“Does someone occupy the sixth cottage that’s grouped here?” Clive asked.
“That would be me.”
They all turned to see a petite, thin woman, her long, blond hair in a braid and over it was a scarf that tied in a knot in the back of her head. She was dressed in the garments of a Northwoman, a dark linen underdress and an apron type tunic over it. Bronze brooches were clipped to each of the two apron straps at her chest and strung beads hung between them. She was pretty even with the scar that ran along one cheek. A small lad, about four years, with a thatch of thick blond hair, was plastered against her, his skinny, little arms hugging tight to her leg.
“This is Greta, our healer,” Gorm said with a wide smile.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Greta said hesitantly and slowly.
“You’re just learning our language, aren’t you?” Raven asked.
“I am,” Greta said with a pleasant smile and again spoke slowly. “I hope
to have my son, Tait, versed in his homeland language as well as your language.”
“Wise of you,” Raven said.
“We’ll help teach him,” Fyn said, “if his da doesn’t mind.”
“Greta is a widow,” Gorm said.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Greta. My men are good men. You are lucky to have them nearby,” Raven said, seeing the apprehension on the woman’s face as she looked at each of them. She couldn’t blame her. She’d be living surrounded by men who were strangers to her. In time, she would learn they were good men to have around. She also thought it wise of Gorm to place her men here. With people seeking the healer, many eyes could be kept on them. No doubt her men would realize the same, though she would mention it to them.
Greta nodded, but she still didn’t appear convinced.
“Food for my men?” Raven asked, turning to Gorm.
“That is my task,” Greta said, Raven’s attention returning to her. “I will cook for them, though their task is to help provide the fish or game needed as the other men do. More is stored in the sheds for all to share and so none go hungry.”
“We’ll do our share,” Clive assured her.
“I am cooking a fish stew and will let you know when it is ready,” Greta said and took her son’s hand to walk past them and enter her cottage.
“We should return to the longhouse now,” Gorm advised.
“After I speak alone with my men,” Raven said and Gorm made no protest. He nodded and stepped away to give her time with her men.
“These cottages are a bit of a distance from the longhouse, but I suppose it’s better than a climb to the keep,” Clive said with a nod to the stone keep sitting high on a hill.”
“I’ll make sure to see all of you throughout each day as we discussed,” Raven informed them and lowered her voice. “Something has come up and I want to see what we can find out about it.”
The men nodded, knowing whatever it was, it was meant to be spoken about in private.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” Raven said with a smile.
“Who us?” Brod said, his grin wide, and they all laughed.
Raven fell in step beside Gorm as they made their way back to the keep. She kept a keen eye on her surroundings, taking in everything she could. From what she could see, the two different cultures seemed to be blending well. People didn’t appear to purposely avoid one another and smiles and talk were often exchanged among them.
“I hope you will find the longhouse to your liking,” Gorm said.
“Does it hold enough heat in the winter?” Raven asked, the cold air feeling as if it had settled permanently into her bones.
“It has served us well in the frigid North,” Gorm said.
“But will it serve well here in my homeland?” Raven questioned, but Gorm didn’t answer.
She was glad yesterday’s snow hadn’t lingered into today, though she didn’t think they’d seen the last of it. She entered the longhouse and stopped after taking only a few steps, Gorm continuing to the table where Wolf sat with only two of the six men he had entered with earlier. The room was large, the ceiling high with several wood posts appearing as if they not only supported the roof but held the structure together. On the posts were skillfully carved symbols that ran up the height of the posts. A large fire pit occupied the middle of the room and cast off strong heat. Narrow tables and benches were placed on either side of it. The smoke from the fire drifted up and out of a hole in the roof. The floor was rough wood, but that was better than it being a dirt floor. Furs hung from pegs in the wall, and weapons, spears, axes, and more hung in various spots along the wall as well, while others rested against it. It was obvious the Northmen were not lacking in weapons.
Gorm and the two warriors withdrew from the room quietly.
Raven didn’t hurry to the table where her husband sat. She took off her cloak, dropping it on one of the benches and stepped close to the fire pit. She almost sighed with pleasure as the heat from it wrapped around and sunk into her. She closed her eyes and let the heat bathe her with its warmth. After a few moments, she hugged herself, hoping to trap the heat deep within her.
“You’re cold?”
She turned, surprised to see her husband so close to her. She hadn’t heard him approach, but then she’d been too lost in the luxurious heat to pay much heed to anything else. Yet, she had heard concern in his voice and that had surprised her.
“Not anymore,” she said, though worried once she moved away from the fire pit, the cold would return. “I suppose this room serves as a Great Hall.”
Wolf nodded. “It’s our common room. Our quarters are at the other end with two rooms in between.”
“What purpose do those other rooms serve?” she asked, noticing there was no bite of anger in his tone or a sharp scowl to his features. But then he was in familiar surroundings and had no need for worry.
“Whatever I wish them to serve?”
“Do they stand unoccupied?” she asked, wondering if others would share the space with them.
“No, we are the only ones who occupy the longhouse, for now.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that and she didn’t intend to ask—yet.
Wolf extended his hand toward a nearby table. “Sit and have a hot brew and I will tell you not only your duties as my wife, but what I expect of you.”
“And I will tell you what I expect of my husband,” she said and walked to the table, a shiver running through her from the loss of heat or what she was about to hear, she couldn’t be sure.
Raven sat with her back to the fire pit and she watched as Wolf took the seat opposite her. There was no denying he was a man of extremely fine features. A woman could get lost in his eyes alone they held such an appealing intensity and strength. She admired strength above all else. One did not survive without it.
He spoke with authority and confidence and a spark of annoyance rose up to poke at her. He expected her to bow to his command and that wasn’t going to happen.
“A Northwoman’s duties once she weds are not that different from those here in Scotland. She tends the house, sees to the food and drink, sees to the care of the garments, and tends the children. The home is the wife’s domain and she takes great pride in it.”
“And what does the husband’s duties consist of?” Raven asked.
“The husband sees to foreign trade, the planting of the fields, hunts and fishes to provide food, and sees that his family is kept safe.”
“So the Northmen wed for a fair exchange of duties,” Raven said and was surprised he wasn’t annoyed or affronted by her questions.
“There are different reasons we wed just as you Highlanders do. Marriages are arranged to gain wealth and land. Others are made to settle disputes. Most marriages are made to benefit both parties.”
Her question slipped from her lips without thought. “Do any Northmen wed for love?”
“They do. Trevor and my sister Demelza wed for love. My father was angry when he found out. He had had other plans for my sister. It took some doing to convince him otherwise.”
Curiosity had her asking, “What plans did he have for you that went astray?”
He held her glance as he responded, “I was to wed a maiden from a nearby tribe to strengthen our ties with them, then bring my bride here to expand our holdings in these parts.”
“Was she even familiar to you?” she asked, wondering if it had been more than an arranged marriage.
“Eria and I have known each other since we were young.”
“Do you love her?” Raven almost bit her tongue for asking. It didn’t matter to her. Or did it? How much had they each sacrificed to end what the attack had started?
“I care for her,” he said after a brief hesitation.
Had he hesitated not wanting to tell Raven the truth? Or did he have to think of how he truly felt about her?
“Love has no place in our situation. We are bound by an agreement and we shall honor it,” he said as if he da
red her to say otherwise.
“I will honor the bargain struck,” Raven said.
“You will be a good wife?” he asked doubtfully.
“Define good,” she challenged with a smile and she was surprised when he returned the smile, and annoyed that she felt a flutter in her stomach, his features turning far too intoxicating. That was something she would not tolerate. She would not allow herself to find her husband attractive.
“I have a feeling that it won’t matter how I define good.” His smile faded. “Will you see to the duties I explained to you?”
“You told me you would tell me of the duties and also what you expect from me. What do you expect from me, husband?”
He didn’t hesitate to respond. “I expect you to share my bed and couple without complaint and give me many bairns. You’re never to draw a weapon on me again and you are to hold your tongue when told and I’m sure that’s just the start of my list of things I expect from you.”
Raven didn’t hesitate to have her say. “I slept well enough with you last night, so I don’t think sharing a bed with you will be a chore. It depends on how good of a poke you give me as to whether I’ll complain or not, and it’s up to you to plant your seed good and strong in me so it will be no fault of mine if it doesn’t take root there. Don’t give me cause to draw a weapon on you and I won’t. And to hold my tongue when told will never happen. I lack experience in any wifely chores and I would advise you to seek servants who can see to them. As far as what a husband provides a wife, I can hunt my own food and I can keep myself safe. I can even provide foreign trade.”
“So what you’re saying is that you don’t need anyone to survive,” Wolf said.
“I have all the skills I need to survive, but a bargain is a bargain and I will honor it.” Raven stood and walked over to snap up her cloak off the bench.
“Raven,” Wolf called out as she went to leave.
She turned to see him standing, the familiar tic at the corner of his eye catching her attention.
“You didn’t tell me what you expect from me, your husband.”
“I expect only one thing,” she said and saw her response caught him by surprise.
Highlander Oath Of The Beast Page 5