The vision of her lovely face filled with disappointment when he’d pushed her away came back to him. He’d been shocked at the kiss, but even more shocked at how much he’d wanted it. It would have been nothing to part her lips beneath his and see if she tasted as sweet as he kept imagining. Though he had no idea how many women were in his past, being near her made him remember the warmth of a woman’s body, the sensation of all of that soft skin against his and the excitement of finding just the right places to touch. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to explore that with Aisly.
Just feeling her touch last night had made him half-rigid with wanting. And then, when he’d taken her hips to pull her closer for his shave, he’d been so hard that the ache in his head had transferred to his manhood. He’d had a very real, throbbing need to pull her closer, to sink his body into hers and show her just how much he appreciated her help. It hadn’t helped that when her big green eyes had looked into his, he’d seen his own desire reflected there. He’d forced himself to let go of her so he wouldn’t do something they’d regret.
He forced himself to stop thinking about her as he rose to see to his morning ablutions. He’d only just finished when she returned. Other than expressing surprise that he was up, she sat a small bowl of what he suspected was another awful draught down on the table and set about filling a bowl with pottage for him.
Giving her a smile, he took a seat on a stool and began to eat. She smiled back but didn’t speak beyond a greeting. It seemed she didn’t know how to proceed any more than he did. Her words from the day before had been in his mind since she’d said them, so after a few bites he decided to ask her about them. ‘What did you mean about the tapestries your mother made? What happened?’
Surprised, she looked up, the debate to answer clear in her eyes. Finally she looked down, stirring the pottage in her bowl as she answered. ‘My husband went to the Danes at the settlement to report the two maidens missing. He was killed. They said he started a fire that burned some of their houses, but I’m uncertain. So they came and demanded payment for the damage.’ She met his eyes again and he was shocked to see a thin film of tears. ‘The Danes took them.’
It was as if a fist reached in and squeezed his heart and all the air from his chest. The need to touch her, to comfort her, and the equal need to find the tapestries and those responsible for their loss warred within him. ‘That’s a horrible price to pay.’
‘Thank you. It was.’ She took another bite before saying, ‘They were all I have left of my family. The only reminder of those good days. I always wanted a family to have those days back again, but that won’t happen now.’
What had happened that made her think she didn’t want another husband? It wasn’t any of his business, but he opened his mouth to ask anyway. ‘Why won’t you have a family?’
‘I refuse to live under the tyranny of another husband.’
His mind turned over all the ways her husband could’ve been a tyrant to her and his vague dislike of the man turned to loathing. Fingers clenching around his bowl, he forced a calm to his voice. ‘Was he harsh with you?’
Her gaze faltered. He was asking too much, but something had happened in the past hours with her to make too much seem woefully inadequate.
When she spoke, her voice was so still, so soft, he imagined that she’d never spoken the words aloud before to anyone. ‘Sometimes he’d throw things, or he’d destroy my work if he was angry, push me out of the way if I moved too slowly. I think I frustrated him. I wasn’t quite as biddable as he’d expected and after the first couple of months he stopped being polite.’
Grinding his teeth together to work back his anger, he took in the gentle slope of her cheek and the smudge of blue under her eyes that said she hadn’t been getting enough sleep thanks to him. She was delicate and beautiful and kind, and he wanted to break the man weak enough to think anything else. The warrior part of him was glad the man was dead.
‘You didn’t deserve that.’ That was all he managed to say before an insistent pounding on the door brought Aisly to her feet.
She stared at him for a moment, surprise and gratitude evident in her eyes, before she blinked as if only just now becoming aware of the knocking. Running her palms in a nervous gesture over her apron, she walked over to answer the door. This could be their last moments together. He’d be leaving soon if the fierce stare Alstan gave him from the doorway was any indication. Magnus stood and clenched his jaw in his bid not to waver on his feet as the black spots danced, threatening to overtake his vision, his head pounding.
‘You untied him.’ Alstan’s harsh voice fairly crackled with accusation.
‘Aye,’ she replied, her voice as carefree as if she’d just offered him a ‘good morning’.
Magnus managed not to smile as he paused on his way to the door to give her a final thanks before leaving. Though a thanks seemed inadequate after all that had passed between them, particularly since he might never see her again.
She didn’t allow him to speak as she pulled a cloak from the peg next to the door and pulled it around her shoulders. ‘I’m going with you.’ Her chin was tipped upward in determination.
‘That’s not wise.’
‘Nay,’ her brother said from his place in the doorway.
Magnus ignored the man, preferring to admire her sparkling green eyes and the way her face flushed with her vehemence. The woman could have been a warrior queen had she the physique for it. But he frowned as soon as the thought crossed his mind. Had he ever seen a warrior queen? Did such a thing exist? The familiar grey fog rushed in to cloud his mind, making it impossible to follow the thread of that thought.
‘Do not frown at me, foreigner. I’m going whether you like it or not.’ Tying the cloak under her chin, she pegged her brother with an even fiercer look. ‘Let us be on our way. They’ll be waiting.’
Alstan frowned and Magnus suspected he would have argued had he not been afraid to appear weak. They both knew she wasn’t changing her mind and, short of tying her down, her brother wouldn’t win the argument. Instead of replying at all, he turned and led the way to Cuthbert’s hall.
Aisly visibly relaxed and gave him a tentative smile as he stepped outside after her. His palms itched to touch her and reassure her that he would be fine. He didn’t know that, though, not for certain.
By instinct, his gaze took in the village around him. His best estimate was that there were a little fewer than a hundred buildings, closer if counting the various outbuildings he saw. Aisly’s home was one of the larger ones and situated on the western side, one of the furthest from the gates. A quick glance to the wall nearest her home assured him that it was scalable. It had probably originally been built to keep out wolves and boars, not men. Not the Danes who plagued them.
Hastening his pace, Magnus drew up next to her. If these were the last moments he’d get to spend with her, he wanted to make sure she knew enough to protect herself. ‘The walls are too low to keep out men who want to get in. Do you have weapons? A plan to protect yourself?’
‘What?’ She skittered to the side away from him but immediately straightened her pace and looked to the ground as her exclamation caught her brother’s attention. Only when the man had turned forward again did she ask, ‘What are you talking about? The wall has served us well.’
Magnus had no idea how that was true given it would take only a sturdy pair of shoulders to lift him up and over it or a well-thrown and cleverly knotted grappling hook. As if the thought had conjured it, he could feel the sensation of the rope slipping through his palms. What did it mean that he so quickly found their weaknesses? Was it simply the knowledge of a seasoned warrior or an enemy looking for vulnerabilities? He shook off the disturbing thought.
‘Your home is one of the closest to the wall. If an enemy comes over, you’ll have precious little time to run. Your home has wooden floors. Is t
here a dugout beneath?’
She still looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but she nodded. ‘Aye, like most of the others. I store root vegetables there.’
‘Good. Make sure the panel is covered with rushes at all times and keep a knife down there. You can hide there if you have to.’ It wasn’t much, but it was all the help he could offer her for now. He reaffirmed his vow to figure out some way to repay her, even if it could only be done after he figured out who he was...if he lived that long.
When she agreed, he turned his attention back to the village. People were just beginning to move about, eyeing him with either interest or outright hostility as they passed. He focused on each face, hoping something in one of them would cause a flicker of recognition to light within him. None of them did. Of course not.
Alstan turned a corner around a large stone forge, giving Magnus his first look at the hall. It had to be where their leader lived, situated as it was near the middle of the village. Flexing his shoulders, he ran a hand over the back of his neck, where the skin had started to feel too tight. Every instinct he possessed told him not to walk into that building. He had no idea what could be waiting for him there, but even as he thought it, he knew he had no choice. Two warriors stood just outside the door, swords at their sides and their eyes levelled on him. Alstan turned when he reached them, lending weight to their sentry as his eyes dared Magnus to run.
Magnus gave another glance around. Villagers were already starting to gather, lured from their early-morning chores by the prospect of excitement. Even if he were capable of running, he wouldn’t get far without his sword. It was best to walk in and face them head-on.
‘I won’t let them harm you.’ Aisly walked beside him, giving him a soft smile as she looked up at him.
There was no doubt in his mind that she would do everything she could to uphold that vow. He couldn’t say that he wanted her to leave with him; he had no way to care for her. He couldn’t pull her into his arms to just once feel her body against his; her brother would intervene. He could only return her smile and silently vow to reward her for her generosity. He’d come back for that.
‘Foreigner.’ Alstan’s voice drew their attention.
Magnus levelled a glare at the man before Alstan turned and led them inside the hall. They entered on the long side of the building, which meant the large, single room was spread out to either side and a long, rectangular hearth sat in the middle. The fire burned low, as the house’s occupants had apparently finished their morning meal. Four tall posts bisected the room, supporting the high, vaulted ceiling. He couldn’t help the niggling thought that the house seemed small for a hall, though the bloody grey fog kept him from remembering other halls he’d seen. The walls were covered in tapestries depicting hunting scenes and Magnus wondered if Aisly had embroidered them. He didn’t get much of a chance to ponder the issue, though, because he pulled abreast of Alstan, who nodded to two men seated across the hearth. Aisly stopped as well and Magnus shifted slightly so that he was half in front of her.
‘I am Cuthbert, chieftain of Heiraford, and this is my brother, Arte.’ The man with a shock of white hair sat straight and indicated the round man sitting next to him. ‘We’ve a few questions for you and how you came to be near our village.’
Magnus relayed as many of the details of his journey to their village as he dared. It was a delicate situation, not knowing who he was or who they were to him. It was impossible to know which detail might reveal too much. He left out the fact that he’d awakened by a fire about to be burned after battle, not knowing if that was significant or not. He paused in his story and almost smiled when Aisly didn’t bother to correct him and reveal his secret. The woman deserved whatever reward she requested of him.
When he finished, they had a few questions about the confrontation with the rebel Dane at the stream. He was proud of her when she raised her voice and firmly answered the questions directed towards her. His palms itched to touch her, to rub a hand down her back and reassure her, but he held himself away. Though he’d clearly been incapacitated while in her home, he didn’t want to give anyone cause to doubt her.
When they’d finished their interrogation about his meagre past, Cuthbert lowered his head to consult with his brother. Alstan gave Magnus a suspicious look, gave a glance to make sure there were two warriors nearby, in case he tried to run, and made his way around the hearth to offer his own opinion. Their voices were too low for Magnus to make out more than a murmur.
Aisly surprised him by placing a hand on his arm and rising up on her tiptoes to whisper as close to his ear as she could reach, ‘Don’t fret, foreigner. Alstan will make sure they let you go.’
That wasn’t precisely what concerned him. He believed that her brother would honour his word to let him leave. However, he knew that wouldn’t stop anyone who might want him dead or who considered him a threat from following. A quick glance around confirmed that the few warriors who loitered in the room were staring him down. He didn’t want to alarm the woman, so he gave her a nod over his shoulder. Her face lit up when he winked at her.
She seemed too young and spirited to be a widow. Their eyes met and there was that tug again. Low, deep and exciting, right in the gut. Perhaps, once he figured out his place, he could come back to her and convince her that wherever his home was it could be hers, too.
It was a foolish thought for many reasons. If he was a warrior, he couldn’t offer her what she wanted. His home could be days away, across seas—he saw a deep blue ocean spread out before him, the sun glinting off the small whitecaps of the waves.
‘Foreigner?’
The voice repeated itself at least twice before Magnus could jerk himself away from the strange imagery. He stumbled back into Aisly, who put her arms around him.
‘Do you see what you’ve done?’ She raised her soft voice to be heard by Alstan over the whispers of the warriors at their back.
‘Aisly—’ The warning came from Alstan, but she didn’t heed it. Of course she didn’t, not his warrior queen.
‘He’s not yet ready to be up and about. A blade nearly split open his skull and you have him standing here as if he’s well.’
‘That’s enough, Aisly. He needs to be questioned.’ Her brother turned back to Cuthbert, who stood up to speak.
‘Where were you planning on going now, foreigner?’
Magnus stood as straight as if no injury had befallen him, refusing to appear any weaker before these men who were judging him. Aisly dropped her arms but kept a hand on his back. Had he ever felt a touch so clearly? Shaking himself from the thought, he said, ‘I’d planned to retrace my path. See if I can find where the rebels who trailed me are camped. I’ll capture them one by one until I find one who knows me.’
‘D-do you think that’s wise?’ Aisly tensed and spoke so low that only he had likely heard her.
He spared her a glance. The concern in her voice was almost his undoing. ‘They’re the only clue I have to figuring out who I am.’
She frowned and her teeth tugged on her bottom lip, but she didn’t argue.
‘You have nowhere to go, foreigner, and soon the frost will come. Stay and recover,’ Cuthbert said.
Alstan glowered but didn’t offer a dissent.
Magnus didn’t know how he felt about staying. The trail back to the men who’d tried to kill him got colder every day. ‘I fear that more of the rebel Danes might follow me here and it’s best I lead them away from your village.’
Cuthbert nodded and cast a wary glance towards Alstan, as if he knew that the younger man wouldn’t agree with his words. ‘I fear the rebels plague us whether you are here or not. They’ve plagued us since late spring.’
‘Aye, I’ve been told of your troubles. I was sorry to hear them. Once I find where they’re hiding, I’ll take care of that problem for you.’
Cuthbert waved his
words away. ‘We’d like you to stay through winter. I’m not convinced the rebels have given up their attacks just yet and we’ve lost a few warriors to the Danes at the settlement. Aisly’s husband was amongst them.’ The older man paused to gesture to her. ‘You’ve likely had more dealings with them than the rest of us. When your thoughts settle and your memories return, you could be a great help to us. Staying would give you a place to regain your health during the cold months, before continuing on your way come spring.’
His first instinct was to reject the invitation, but he couldn’t deny the sound reasoning in the chieftain’s offer. Staying would give him time to regain his health, which in turn would make his triumph against the rebels more likely. The drawback was that he risked losing the cowards the longer he waited to look for them. Staying would also give him more time with Aisly. He’d barely begun to ponder that before Alstan’s voice cut through his thoughts.
‘Nay, Cuthbert. You should not invite this man into your village.’
‘Alstan.’ Cuthbert raised a steady hand in supplication. ‘I understand your concern.’
‘My concern? He’s one of them. The man is clearly a Dane. It’s everyone’s concern,’ Alstan argued.
Behind him, Aisly’s breath hitched, the sound wrenching his heart. He couldn’t tell her that he wasn’t. He didn’t know if it was true.
‘A Dane, you say?’ This was said in a deep voice from the doorway.
Magnus turned to see an older man standing there. He was clearly of high rank, like Cuthbert and his brother. His tunic was a supple green with embroidered hem. Though Magnus was almost a head taller, the man had bulk that made him the biggest man Magnus had observed in the village. He stood with a sneer, his nose pointed towards them and his beady eyes sweeping over them like a snake’s, sliding up and down Magnus’s height and finding him lacking. The sneer stayed in place as he transferred that disrespectful gaze to Aisly. She tensed and it took all Magnus could do to stop himself from moving between them.
In Bed with the Viking Warrior Page 9