Some sense of self-preservation tightened in his chest, urging him to go now. They both knew it would end, but he had the feeling it would end worse than either of them could fathom. And still his arms tightened around her. As he gazed into her pale green eyes, he knew that he would take as much time as they could get until that end came.
* * *
He stared down at the broken creature with sunken cheeks, lined skin and hair so stringy and faded she bore no resemblance to the woman he remembered. He disgraced himself by gasping at the change and her eyes opened. They were the only part of her to retain a recognisable shadow of the woman she had been—a clear blue that always warmed when she saw him, as they did now.
‘Magnus.’ Her hand reached out and touched his face. The act nearly caused the ache in his throat to overwhelm him. ‘I knew you’d come back.’
‘I’d never leave you.’ His voice came out too scratchy as he hurried to assure her.
But his words didn’t reassure her at all. To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears and her voice was sad when she said, ‘Aye, I knew you wouldn’t. Not while I’m living.’
He frowned at the strange words and what they foretold.
‘It is your birthright to be a great warrior. I want you to leave here and make that happen.’
‘Nay! I’ll not leave you.’
She ignored him and pointed to the far corner of the chamber. ‘Move the chest there and dig below. You’ll find a small satchel of coins.’ When he protested, she looked to the door, reminding them both that their time was limited.
He knew he was dreaming then, because with no effort on his part the satchel appeared in his hand, but he couldn’t muster the will to rouse himself. Heart in his throat, he leaned forward to better hear her words.
‘Travel northward along the coast and you’ll find his hall. Tell him that you are Magnus’s son and he’ll take you in. I should have let you go before, but I was selfish and wanted you for myself. Please forgive me, Magnus. If he refuses you, then offer him the coin. But only if he refuses.’
Magnus jerked awake, his entire body trembling. The fire was a mere orange glow in the hearth, barely enough to see the outline of Aisly leaning over him. She stroked his face and ran a hand down his chest. ‘I’m here. You were dreaming.’
He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he allowed her touch to soothe him, just as it had when he’d been injured in this same bed. Except this time, the smooth skin of her naked body pressed against his. His eyes flew open as they sought out the vent to check how long he’d been asleep. He’d taken her again and must have fallen asleep afterwards.
‘It’s not morning yet. I think we’d only just drifted off.’
There was no light filtering in from outside. He let out a breath, relief and frustration mingled together. Relief that they wouldn’t be found. Frustration that he’d never have the right to keep her in his bed until morning. ‘Come here,’ he said, his voice rough from sleep. Gripping her waist, he tugged until she complied and laid down next to him, where he curled himself around her, tucking her under his chin and taking solace in her presence.
‘What did you dream about?’ she whispered against his chest.
The dream had been a memory. It hadn’t pulled any significant threads loose, but there’d been a familiarity about the scene. He hadn’t seen it in the dream, but he knew there was a wolf’s head and pelt on the wall of that chamber. Its wooden eyes had tormented him as a child. He breathed in the scent of her hair and stroked the silken skin of her back. ‘My mother. I don’t remember, but I think she must’ve died when I was a child.’
‘Oh.’ That simple sound was filled with pain and empathy.
‘She was kind. I remember that.’ The pain he must’ve felt when he lost her echoed through him now. ‘It was important to her that I be a warrior. It’s all she ever wanted for me.’ Though he couldn’t remember why or why there’d been such a sense of urgency in the dream. There’d been some dark presence looming over them.
She waited, but when he didn’t continue, she said, ‘I dreamed about my parents for years afterwards. Sometimes I still do. They’re all good dreams, but I always wake up sad. So lonely.’
Was that the pain he felt now? Loneliness? ‘I don’t want you to be lonely.’
Her smile was in her voice. ‘How can I be when you hold me so tight?’
But they both knew that would end soon. ‘You make me think of being more than a warrior.’
She stilled against him, her fingers curling against his chest before flattening out over his heart. ‘But that’s who you are.’
He nodded. Aye, it’s who he was and he didn’t know if he could change it. ‘Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine us, our children around the hearth as we eat our meal. You with your needle and embroidery sitting by the fire...and it’s all I want.’
‘I remember doing that as a child. My mother near the hearth working on her tapestry. My father telling us stories.’ She took a deep, trembling breath. ‘It’s what I want, too...with you.’
They didn’t speak about it any more. It was too painful with the future so uncertain.
Chapter Fifteen
Magnus spent the next three days ensconced in Cuthbert’s hall. The man had been understandably angry that Magnus had gone ahead in his search for his identity without Cuthbert’s men. Magnus had anticipated that and the resulting near-interrogation. It had all been handled respectfully—the questions, the endless retelling of what he’d heard and seen, though he’d left out the part of him understanding their language—but there was no denying the suspicion in Cuthbert’s eyes now. Magnus would have felt the same. So when it was suggested that he move into the hall due to the cold weather, Magnus accepted it as his punishment. He knew that he’d earn their trust again soon.
It was harder to accept being kept from Aisly. With so many people around at all times, it wasn’t easy for him to talk to her alone during the day and impossible for him to sneak out at night to visit her. After the sennight he’d spent away, it was akin to torture. They’d had only the few stolen hours that night he’d returned and it wasn’t nearly enough to quench his thirst for her. He’d left early that morning, scaling the wall again and disappearing into the forest, to make an appearance at the front gate later in the morning, never suspecting that circumstances would keep him from her.
A fist pounding the table before him brought his attention back to the group. Drops of spittle flew from Wulfric’s mouth as he pounded one last time. ‘We have to go after them. We cannot sit and wait for them to come back and attack us.’
Someone immediately dissented.
It was the same conversation the group, comprised of Cuthbert, Arte, Wulfric, a few other elders and warriors, had every morning now. Cuthbert consistently argued that they didn’t have enough men to track the rebels and leave the village protected, while Wulfric argued for aggression. Aside from offering what he knew about the small group of rebels heading north, Magnus had kept silent. It wouldn’t help in any way for him to weigh in this early, not when he’d compromised their trust.
Not when none of them wanted to hear the truth. They didn’t have enough warriors to aggressively challenge the rebels, but their fortifications weren’t good enough to withstand a well-executed assault. There was no guarantee that the five rebels he had seen worked alone. Magnus hadn’t found their permanent home or camp. He’d found only the five travelling north. It was possible there were others nearby, or even that the five were returning to their home in the north and would be back with more men.
The fate of the village was grim and it wouldn’t improve as long as the disagreements amongst the leaders continued. Magnus had tried to support the need to work on fortifications, but no one had wanted to hear that they were compromised. In truth, it hardly mattered now that the frost had settled in. A
frozen ground made the work challenging.
The moment Aisly walked into the hall, his gaze settled on her standing in the doorway. She sought him out, too, her gaze passing over the people until she found him. The moment their eyes met, he felt a rush of excitement deep in his belly, followed by a tug of warmth that spread from his chest across his whole body. A primal urge to hold her and feel the weight of her slight body against his surged through him.
Cuthbert’s and Arte’s wives greeted her and she was forced to look away. The older women led her over to some tapestries hanging on the far side of the hall, where they paused to examine some frayed edges. Magnus watched her walk away—the sway of her hips had him imagining the many other ways they could be passing the time in her bed. Their days apart had felt like an eternity.
Catching him watching her, Cuthbert cleared his throat and gave him a wry grin. Magnus hadn’t been aware his interest had been so obvious and shot a glance to Wulfric. The man continued to talk to a warrior at his side about the need to fight, so he hadn’t noticed.
‘You seem to fancy our fair Aisly.’ Cuthbert leaned over and spoke in a low voice.
Magnus hesitated to make his interest in her known. If it turned out he was a Dane who was important to a man like Jarl Eirik, and the people of the village chose to turn their backs on him, he didn’t want her unduly associated with him. ‘She’s lovely and I’m very thankful to her for her care.’
Cuthbert’s grin only widened. ‘Aye, she is that. As you know, she’s newly widowed, but in the summer you might stand a chance of winning her.’
Magnus was in no way prepared to discuss his intentions towards her with the older man, so he thought it best to steer the conversation in a different direction. ‘Aye, I’m told her husband was killed by the Danes at the settlement.’ He’d been very careful about bringing up the subject, though he’d been anxious to learn the details. Aisly hadn’t wanted to talk about Godric, and the incident was too recent and raw for the warriors to discuss.
The smile dropped from Cuthbert’s face and the elder nodded as he brought his ale up for a drink.
‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Magnus pressed.
‘The bloody Danes didn’t want to help us after our women were kidnapped by the rebels, Godric became enraged and they killed him. Simple as that. They killed all the warriors that day.’
It was the same version of the story he’d heard from other warriors. Though Aisly hadn’t said anything overtly, he had the feeling she might have more insight if only she’d open up to him.
‘Was Godric only there to confront them about the women?’ Magnus kept his voice low so that it wouldn’t carry across the narrow table to Wulfric.
Cuthbert nodded and appeared almost offended Magnus would even ask. ‘He was devoted to us.’
Of that, Magnus had no doubt, but he’d begun to suspect that Godric might have had ulterior motives. He couldn’t help himself from looking back to where Aisly spoke with the older women. Her soft voice drifted over to him and he found himself straining to hear her words.
‘If that’s the way your thoughts are going, you should know that she’s barren.’ Cuthbert’s voice interrupted him. ‘Godric was frustrated with her and had begun to think about divorce.’
‘Godric didn’t see her true value.’
The older man’s smile returned. ‘She is a skilled embroideress. The abbess will value her.’
That wasn’t the value he was alluding to, but Magnus nodded just the same. It was a shame they didn’t see her compassion and spirit as value. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Wulfric’s been kind to allow her to stay on in her grief, but the convent will be a better place for her. Come the warmer weather, he’ll ask her to make that decision.’ Cuthbert paused before adding with a knowing grin, ‘Unless you’d like to declare for her.’
Perhaps concerned with their private discussion, Wulfric raised his voice to gain their attention. ‘How many warriors would you spare for an excursion?’
Cuthbert set his cup down with a thump. ‘No warriors will go.’
This set off another debate and Magnus had had enough. Grabbing his empty cup, he got to his feet and made his way to the table holding the ale, thankful it was near where Aisly was bending to examine a tapestry. The other two women had moved ahead to discuss the merits of replacing versus repairing the next tapestry on the wall, leaving her alone. He made a fist to keep his fingers from reaching out to touch her, but he couldn’t resist allowing his thigh to brush against her as he passed. She gasped and he smiled as he stopped at the table and poured himself more ale.
He wouldn’t let her know what Cuthbert had said, but he was suddenly very fearful for her future. As of now he had nothing to offer her but the hut the villagers had been kind enough to allow him to use for the winter. When spring came, he wouldn’t even have that. What would happen if Wulfric’s charity ran out before spring?
‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered, surprising him by coming up beside him at the table.
‘I’ve been watched.’
She nodded in understanding as she grabbed an empty cup and poured a little ale for herself. ‘I know. I only wish there wasn’t a need for deception.’
‘Do you?’ His gaze caressed the curve of her cheekbone much the same way his lips longed to do.
‘Aye.’ She smiled but didn’t meet his eyes as she brought her cup to her lips and took a drink. She kept her lips behind the cup as she said, ‘Do you not see how the women look at you? Wyn drools every time she sees you. I want them to know you’re mine.’ She blushed as she said that, as if she’d revealed too much.
He tried not to smile, but he’d already started before he could contain it. Glancing to the opposite side of the room, he confirmed that Wyn kept sneaking glances at him as she worked on weaving rushes into a rug. The girl was pleasing enough in her looks and demeanour, but she wasn’t Aisly. ‘Am I yours?’ he teased.
He wanted to be alone with her so that he could reassure her that he was hers in any way she’d have him. He wanted to bury himself in her and hear her cry out his name. His true name. Just imagining it spilling from her lips as she came apart on his shaft had him rigid.
‘I want you to be.’ Anyone could have looked at her and seen the longing on her face. It tore at his heart and made him want to pull her against him and hold her so tight she’d never doubt again.
‘I am, fair one. I’m yours.’ He met her gaze for one deliberate moment so that he could make sure she understood before he glanced away to the two older women nearby. He vowed then to find some way to go to her tonight.
‘Come home with me now.’
His gaze rushed back to hers.
‘I’ve finished the tapestry, so I’ll need someone to bring it back. And I need to take this one to mend. You can carry it.’ When he hesitated, she pressed. ‘They’ll be watching you tonight, as long as you’re staying in the hall. There won’t be any other way until you regain their trust.’
What she said was true, but it was dangerous. Yet the need to have her to himself was so strong he couldn’t wait any longer, and he agreed.
* * *
I love you. The secret thought nearly tumbled from her lips before she could close them.
He gave her a particularly arrogant grin as he tucked himself back into his trousers, almost as if he’d heard it. Once they’d reached her home, they hadn’t even made it to the bed. He’d taken her against the worktable so hard the memory of it beating against the wall still echoed in her mind.
Her skirt was still up around her waist and she sat on the table, but she was too weak to find her feet and regain her modesty. When he was done, he stepped between her knees and his arms went around her, pulling her close for another kiss. He gave her another grin. ‘Your lips are swollen. They’ll know what we were doing.’ His thumb ra
n over her lips and across her chin. The sensitive skin there was no doubt reddened from his beard.
She needed to pull herself away, to figure out how to compose herself so that when they returned to the hall she could pretend nothing had happened. But she couldn’t stop touching him, her fingers in the short hair at the back of his head. She was fast running out of ways to pretend that nothing was happening between them. ‘They don’t suspect, do they?’
He shook his head, but his eyes were clouded with worry as they met hers. ‘Nay, but they might if we allow this to keep happening. We have to wait until I stop sleeping in the hall to do this again. Night is our only ally.’
She didn’t bother to say that this was their last month to try for a child. If he didn’t get her with child this time, then it’d likely be too late for her to claim a baby as Godric’s heir. She didn’t say that, because she wasn’t doing it solely for that reason any more. She wanted him. She wanted him in all the ways she could have him. She wanted his child and she wanted him to be the child’s father. Perhaps it was foolish, because he didn’t even know who he was, but she simply wanted the foreigner. The man she had come to love.
‘I don’t want to have to wait for night any more. I want to be able to touch you and smile at you and talk to you without having to worry about them.’ She knew she sounded needy and she took a breath to make herself stop.
He didn’t seem to mind, though. His hands came up to tilt her face up to his. ‘I want that, too.’ His smile was enough to steal her hard-won breath. ‘But until I know who I am...’ His voice trailed off, because there was no point in stating the obvious. He wouldn’t stay.
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