Defiant in the Viking's Bed

by Joanna Fulford

  A chamber had been prepared for them. Leif set Astrid down and barred the door securely. He had no intention of being disturbed by drunken revellers this night. Having ensured privacy he took his wife in his arms.

  ‘Now where were we?’

  She smiled and slipped her arms around his neck, pressing close. ‘Somewhere around here I think.’ Her lips met his, warm, inviting and seductive.

  His hold tightened and the kiss became intimate, arousing. Leif groaned. ‘I have missed you, lady.’

  ‘And I you, my lord.’

  He undressed himself and then her, letting his gaze travel the length of her body. It was still slender but, now that the concealing drape of the gown was gone, he could see the gentle swelling beneath. His throat constricted and he was filled with love and pride and tenderness. Tentatively he reached out and placed a hand over her belly, feeling the rounded warmth that spoke of the new life within. It seemed so small and fragile. His son? His daughter? It didn’t matter what the sex was, just as long as the child was healthy; as long as Astrid was safe. That thought led to others and suddenly he was uncertain.

  ‘Sweetheart, are you sure this is all right? I’ll not press you to make love if you don’t wish to. It’s your choice.’

  ‘My choice?’ She stepped closer and placed a hand lightly on his breast. ‘Let me think about that.’ Her hand moved lower across his stomach and abdomen.

  His muscles tightened in response. ‘And?’

  ‘Hmm.’ Her fingers closed around him and stroked. ‘It’s a difficult decision.’

  Leif caught his breath. ‘Any more, vixen, and you’ll have no say at all.’

  ‘Dear me.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘I think we’d better go to bed at once. I’ll be able to concentrate better there.’

  * * *

  His lovemaking was considerate and tender, taking his time, delighting in relearning every line and curve, breathing the sweet familiar scent of her. It mingled with the smell of clean linen and fragrant herbs, heady and exciting. Absence had only increased his desire but he controlled it, wanting to savour each moment and draw the moments out; wanting to please her as much as himself.

  Afterwards he held her in his arms, aware of both contentment and belonging. He hoped with all his heart that this time the feeling would last, that they might really have the happiness she had once described. Before that there were practical matters to attend to.

  ‘It will be necessary to return to your uncle’s estate for a while, until such time as I can raise a new hall.’

  Astrid looked up at him. ‘I have no fondness for the place but it is likely to be harder for you, I think.’

  ‘The memories are unpleasant, but it’s a means to an end. Besides, Einar is dead and gone now.’ He paused. ‘The other possibility is for you to remain here until the hall is ready.’

  ‘I would not be parted from you again. Where you go, I will go also.’

  He kissed her bright hair. ‘Then we will face the ghosts together.’

  * * *

  Of necessity the journey was slow out of consideration for Astrid’s tender condition. Ragnhild had provided a wagon for the purpose and filled it with every conceivable comfort and a generous supply of provisions. Leif rode alongside while his men brought up the rear.

  Their presence ensured that the trip was trouble free: no robber band would be foolish enough to attack a large group of seasoned warriors. Thus the time passed pleasantly enough.

  Their arrival was greeted warmly by the men whom Leif had left to oversee things in his absence. Astrid looked around. The place looked much the same, save for an ash pile where Einar’s hall had once stood. Given the scenes that had taken place there she could not lament its passing. Since that shelter was no more she guessed that Leif’s men would have made use of the hovs that Einar’s troops had vacated.

  Leif helped her down from the wagon. ‘Welcome back, if that’s the right expression to use.’

  She smiled ruefully. ‘As you said, it’s a means to an end.’

  ‘And an incentive to get our home rebuilt as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ll second that.’

  ‘In the meantime, I need to speak to my men. Will you excuse me for a little while?’

  She kissed his cheek. ‘For a little while.’

  Leif grinned. ‘It would be impossible to stay away longer.’

  She left him to it and strolled away towards the women’s bower. Several figures stood outside, watching the proceedings from a respectful distance, but now one of them hurried forwards to greet her. Recognising the woman at once, Astrid smiled.

  ‘Dalla! I’m so glad to see you.’

  The servant’s delight and relief were unmistakable. ‘And I you, my lady. The gods have heard my prayers.’

  ‘The gods have heard all our prayers,’ said Astrid.

  ‘After you disappeared I feared the worst.’

  ‘There is much to tell you.’

  ‘I long to hear it but you must be tired after the journey. Come in and rest awhile.’

  Astrid gave a concise version of events since their last meeting and then listened while Dalla recounted what had occurred on the night that Einar had died. Leif’s revenge had been thorough but it had been confined to those able to defend themselves, and he’d allowed his enemies to die in combat. There was honour is such a death, and magnanimity too, considering the end they’d planned for him. The recollection of it made her feel cold. It only reinforced the view that the world was well rid of such men. Even so, there was one question left, one that she dreaded asking.

  ‘What was done with my uncle’s body?’

  ‘Jarl Einar is buried with the others, my lady.’

  Astrid was deeply thankful. Burial was practical but, more importantly, it was honourable and far removed from the news she had feared to hear. Leif had not given in to the evil thoughts that anger had suggested, although she was in no doubt that, had their positions been reversed, Einar would not have hesitated.

  ‘I can show you the place,’ Dalla continued, ‘if you so wish.’

  * * *

  The burial site was some distance from the buildings and marked by a long strip of bare earth that covered the trench where the slain had been interred. Astrid regarded it in silence. She could not regret Einar’s passing. Indeed her dominant emotion was relief. The grave served as an affirmation that he and his henchmen were really gone.

  Leif came to join her there a few minutes later. ‘I was not inclined to afford them an elaborate funeral,’ he said.

  She shook her head. ‘They were lucky to get a funeral at all. You could have left them to the carrion birds.’

  ‘I was tempted. But for the threat of disease I might have done it.’

  ‘It would be just like my uncle to cause a plague.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘He was my kin and yet I loathed him. There was no kindness or mercy in the man, only ravening ambition.’

  ‘Forget him.’ Leif put an arm about her waist. ‘His ambition cannot hurt us now. We’ll shape the future we want.’

  Astrid smiled. ‘It’ll be a good future, Leif. I know it.’

  He bent and kissed her softly. Then together they turned and walked away from the grave.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The months that followed were filled with intense activity. Leif and his men discovered a large pile of seasoned timber behind the barn which they put to good use. The saw pits were busy and a steady stream of wagons carried planks and beams to the ruined steading. Astrid stole a couple of hours to climb aboard one of the carts and ride over to take a look and see how the work was progressing.

  From her vantage point she surveyed the site with interest. The framework of a new hall was already in place and the walls were going up around it. Some distance off, men were digging out the post holes for a barn. The air rang with the sound of hammering and sawing. Noting her arrival, Leif broke off his discussion and came to meet her. Like most of the men he h
ad stripped off to the waist while he worked. Exposure to the sun and wind had tanned his skin and streaked his hair with strands of paler gold. It rendered the blue-grey eyes more vivid. He was altogether an arresting figure and her heart filled with pride that he was hers.

  He smiled and lifted her down from the wagon. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’

  Astrid tilted her face to receive his kiss. ‘I wanted to see how you were getting on.’

  ‘We’ve made good progress but there’s plenty more to do though.’

  It was no exaggeration. Apart from all the rebuilding work, there were also two farms to tend. Late summer had meant a pause to bring in the harvest. That would be followed by burning off the stubble and then ploughing. Soon enough there would be cattle and pigs to slaughter and meat to be salted. The women servants were kept busy making cheese and churning butter. Others spun wool and wove and dyed cloth. The men fished and hunted and trapped. From dawn until dusk the work went on.

  ‘When winter comes we must be ready for it,’ he went on. ‘I’ll not have our people starve or freeze.’

  She could well understand the sense of urgency. Winter would be long and hard and by the end everyone would be longing for the spring. She rested a hand lightly on the mound of her belly. Spring would see the birth of their child too, an event that filled her with eager anticipation.

  ‘We’ll be ready,’ she replied.

  He put an arm around her waist. ‘It’ll be next year before we can move into our new home though.’

  ‘It’ll be something else to look forward to.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Although he never said so, she knew that he did not view the coming birth with unqualified joy. His manner was unfailingly courteous and considerate and, as her pregnancy advanced, he did not press her to make love as often. Sometimes, though, she looked up to find him watching her and once or twice caught the fleeting expression of anxiety in his eyes before he had time to conceal it. Although he never gave voice to his thoughts, she sensed the underlying tension in him. She also understood it. No matter how loving she was now, this would not be resolved until after the child was born. Only then would Leif realise that his fears were unfounded. In the meantime, she could only offer reassurance.

  ‘It will be all right,’ she said. ‘You’ll see.’

  Leif wanted to believe it. He wanted the dream she had described: a thriving family of handsome, healthy children who would grow up here in the home they had built. His rational mind told him it was possible; almost certain. Almost. Try as he might, he could not entirely rid himself of the last lingering traces of apprehension. Work kept it at bay for the most part but, sometimes, at night, the shadow returned. It crept up on him unawares and clouded his thoughts. Then he would feel angry with himself for letting it happen. Astrid was beautiful and loving and kind, in every way a wife to be proud of. She deserved better from him.

  He bent and kissed her soft mouth. ‘Of course it will be all right.’

  Epilogue

  Astrid’s labour began on a cold and blustery spring morning. It went on all afternoon and into the evening. Leif had taken Dalla’s advice at first and tried to occupy himself with chores, but, as time wore on, it became impossible to do that and he was reduced to pacing up and down outside the bower, occasionally glancing at the timber wall with misgivings. Although he’d had repeated assurances that everything was proceeding normally, he could not suppress his anxiety. Childbirth was dangerous. Women died. The thought of losing Astrid filled him with fear. Underneath that was the deeper dread that even if she gave birth normally it might mean the end of the happiness they’d known together.

  Recognising the shadow, he made a determined effort to repel it. Thus far, there had been no sign that her feelings for him had altered in any way. She was just as loving as she had always been. As for the child, it was lusty. He’d felt it kick on many occasions. Astrid was sure it would be a boy, a warrior in the making.

  A cry of pain stopped Leif in his tracks and his stomach lurched. In spite of the cold air, a light sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. Going into battle against overwhelming odds would have made him less nervous than he was now. Instinctively his hand went to the amulet he wore around his neck: the likeness of Thor’s hammer, Mjollnir. Previously it had always brought him luck... Another cry issued from the bower. His hand clenched around the amulet. Then he squatted down with his back to the wall and he prayed.

  The cries of pain grew more frequent, the women’s voices more urgent in exhortation. Leif put his head in his hands. And then, over it all, he heard a baby cry. It was followed by a variety of exclamations impossible to distinguish apart. He froze, chest as tight as a drum. The baby yelled again. The other voices fell silent. It was several minutes before Leif found the courage to move. Slowly he eased himself upright. Then, taking a deep breath, he made his way to the door of the bower.

  It was Dalla who eventually found him there. Leif tried to speak but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

  ‘Astrid?’

  ‘Is well, my lord. And you have a son, a fine healthy boy.’

  He stared at her, trying to take it in. ‘A boy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Astrid is well?’

  ‘She’s tired but otherwise perfectly well.’

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Of course.’ Dalla stood aside to let him pass.

  The other women smiled and melted into the background. Leif paused on the threshold and licked dry lips, his gaze taking in the quiet scene beyond. The room was warm and tidy. Astrid was lying on the bed, propped against cushions, holding the child in her arms. She looked up as he entered and then she smiled; a warm and gentle smile in which he saw both pride and joy.

  ‘Come and meet your son.’

  He moved forwards and sat down by the bed and stared. The baby stared solemnly back.

  ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ she continued.

  Leif swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘He’s wonderful. Perfect, in fact.’

  ‘He takes after his father.’

  ‘His father is very far from perfect.’ His gaze met and held hers. ‘However, he’ll try and mend his ways.’

  ‘I would not change him,’ she replied. ‘I love him exactly as he is and I always will.’

  As he looked into her eyes the last remnants of shadow dissolved and vanished. It was replaced by joy and relief so intense that he felt almost light-headed. He understood then that, this time, everything really would be all right.

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781460320143

  DEFIANT IN THE VIKING’S BED

  Copyright © 2013 by Joanna Fulford

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the pr
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