by Lexy Timms
Things would have been much easier if she would have just killed him in the field. A handsome man never brings good fortune, only heartbreak and devastation. Erik was no different. He hadn't cared properly for her brother and now Kenton was dead. How many more trials and tribulations would they face before the weariness of life overwhelmed them? Linzi wiped the tears with the back of her hand and slipped out of the house.
Moving out into the field, Linzi made a beeline for her mother's grave, the small stone sitting on top of the hill that overlooked their land. A few other graves sat around it, Kenton's being the newest. She climbed the hill and eased down next to the largest stone, her mother's name engraved on the front.
The moon sat low in the sky, its radiance still powerful and coating the land in blue light. The sound of footsteps caused her to turn quickly.
"Sara. You scared me." She smiled and patted the ground to her right. "Come. Join me."
"I think I will." Sara smiled and moved to sit. The older woman had a giving spirit and a wide smile. She could warm anyone within a few moments by simply being in her presence. Her curly brown hair was pulled back, her eyes dark thanks to the shadows playing tricks at the onset of the night.
"Where's Da?"
"He's gone back into the house. His leg’s hurting him again."
"Do you think the fever he had a few weeks ago has anything to do with all of the ailments he's suffering?"
"No one can be sure, lass, but he's a strong man. He'll push through, I'm sure." Sara reached over and brushed Linzi's hair behind her ear. "Now tell me, how are you?"
"I'm fine. My chores are done and my belly’s full."
"Ah, but how is your heart?" Sara leaned back and looked up at the sky as Linzi studied her.
"I'd rather not think about it. Seems that if I ignore it and just get about my business, I have a better time of making it through the day."
"Do you believe he’ll keep his word?"
"That he’s coming back?" Linzi shifted her gaze from her mother's best friend and looked out on the field, the memory of finding Erik half-dead in the grass pushing across her vision.
"Yes, child."
She’d contemplated the question a million times. Sometimes believing he would, most times knowing she was only fooling herself. She’d wait for him forever if she had to. "No. I will hope it won’t be from lack of wanting to. He's got responsibilities to his family and his country. I cannot imagine his mother's pain, nor would I want to keep him from her."
"That's a very different response from the one you gave me the morning after he left." Sara chuckled, but the sound fell flat.
"Well, hope has been suffocated beneath the weight of truth.” Her words came out sharper than she meant them to. She tried to soften her voice. “I realize now that our meeting was just by chance. I thought perhaps the old witch in town knew what she was talking about when she spoke what I believed to be prophecy, but she was wrong."
"Witches rarely are, but with where their gifts come from, I’d be hesitant to heed anything they might mutter."
Linzi sighed. "I just hoped so hard he was to be mine, but it's not so." Linzi shrugged, too tired to cry any more over it. He had made his decision when he left her and they both knew in those final moments that time and space was just the first layer of obstacle that would keep them apart. Acceptance would be the last.
"Who the hell is that?" Worry coated Sara's words as she stood, her hand reaching down for Linzi. "Come on. Let's get to the house. I don't want you or that child growing in your belly to be in danger."
"We're not even sure there’s a babe, Sara." Linzi took the offered hand and stood, brushing off her breeches. She squinted against the darkening sky to the house. "Looks like Luke."
"How can you tell from this far off?" Sara started to move down the hill, her long cotton dress thick and catching on the grass as she stumbled. Linzi rushed toward her, reaching out and helping the large woman right herself before she rolled down the hill and gave the new arrival a rather awkward welcome.
"Careful. No need to lay yourself at the boy’s feet." Linzi chuckled, trying hard to push her heartache away. There was good reason to be worried about anyone approaching their property, but she was almost certain it was her brother's best friend.
The man by the house looked up and watched Sara try to roll herself upright and then hurry down the hill. "It's just me," Luke called out, moving toward them as the door to the house opened.
Linzi's father walked out and laughed loudly. "Luke! Come here, boy. Let me see you and make sure you're not an apparition before my eyes."
"I'm not, Sir, but there are days when it bloody feels like I should be."
Linzi hurried toward them, leaving Sara behind. She wasn't sure what to say as she approached, seeing as Luke was well aware she had been involved with Erik. Their last encounter had been a horrible one, Luke calling her a whore and him slapping her hard in the face. Perhaps he’d been right...
Shame washed over her and she slowed her approach, realization stilling her steps. Surely Luke wouldn't want anything to do with her, but he was here. She approached slowly, her father a bit warmer toward the boy than she would have expected. He most likely just missed Kenton, and Luke was a reminder of a time when they still had her brother beside them.
The days had been horrifically long without him there to help and the nights were boring and so incredibly depressing.
Luke glanced toward Linzi, a soft, shy smile on his lips. “I was hoping actually to stay here for a while. You see, I suddenly find me-self a bit homeless. Both my parents are no more and our place has been razed thanks to the Vikings." There was little angst in his voice, but a weariness sat on him far beyond what his years should allow.
"Of course you can stay with us!” Linzi’s father clapped him on the back. “We'll make up Kenton's room for you." His voice nearly broke when he said his son’s name. Her father shifted his gaze to her, the look in his eyes telling her that she would be making up the room for Luke.
Linzi moved past them, her head bowed low. Luke reached out and stopped her, his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist, but only pulling back gently.
"I can do the room myself. I'd like to talk with Linzi for a minute before we make arrangements. I need to beg her forgiveness before I take a spot in your home. Would that be all right?" His stare was for her, but her father responded.
"Yes, lad. Just be aware that these lands are no longer safe. Make your conversation quick and then get into the house with my daughter. I've lost enough. I'm not willing to take any chances."
"Yes, Sir."
Sara moved toward the house, looking over her shoulder at Linzi before going in. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I'll be fine. Just get Da’ to drink another glass of water. His color is off a bit."
"I agree, but good luck with that. He'll want a mug of cider, which isn't going to help any of us." Sara laughed and Linzi joined her before the older woman retired into the house and closed the door.
Worry rose up in Linzi's chest as she turned to face Luke, his anger from before no longer on his face, but the memory of her brother's closest friend quite disgusted with her the last time they spoke lay etched in her mind.
He released her wrist and reached out, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders. "I'm incredibly sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did back when… when… you know. I was violent and a total arse. Can you see it in your heart to forgive me?"
She allowed his hands to remain on her, but didn't let her voice give way to any emotion at all. She would always remain strong and firm to everyone but her family, only then would she let her guard down. She wasn't interested in whatever he was up to and though the initial excitement at seeing him drove her toward him, it was nothing more than memories of her brother, or Erik coming to her defense, trying to resurface. "Why are you here?"
He dropped his hands to his sides and slid them into the pockets of his breeches. His blond
hair was lighter than she remembered and far beyond him needing a proper haircut. He glanced up, the moonlight catching the dark ocean blue of his eyes and softening his appearance. "I didn't know where else to go. I know I needed to apologize to you.” When she didn’t respond, he shrugged. “I figured your father would allow me to stay a little while if I helped with the final preparation of the land."
"It's all done. I finished it myself a day or so back." She wrapped her arms around her chest, studying him to try and understand if his apology was sincere or a means of gaining shelter. "I'm sorry about your parents."
"Linzi... please. I was upset that morning.” He shifted his weight and kicked at the dirt beneath them. “I came to propose to you, to ask you to be my wife. I'd wanted you for as long as I could remember." He paused, reaching up and pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I shouldn't have come, or reacted the way I did. Had I known that scum Viking was here I wouldn’t have come. Or maybe I’d have brought your brother with me and he’d be here now.” He shook his head. “Just tell your father I appreciate his offer, but I'll be fine on my own."
"No. Wait.” It was Linzi’s turn to feel regret. “Stay. Kenton would want you here.” She inhaled and slowly let the breath out as she thought it over. “I'm fine with it as well. Erik’s gone. He’s decided to return to his own country. There’ll be no running into him. You need not worry." She shrugged as if it were no big deal and walked to the door.
"I didn't mean what I said that day."
She paused and sighed. "Which part? Me being a whore, or harlot?"
"Apologies for that. I was hurt and angry. You would have been too if you were in my position. I’ll regret striking you for as long as I live. If I could rescind the action, I would so do it."
"It doesn’t matter.” Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
"I meant the part about taking you as my wife. I don't care what’s happened now. I’ve had time to think... you'll always be the woman I see myself with when I close my eyes."
"Is that so?" She tilted her head to the side as she watched him closely. He seemed to contradict himself and yet… could it possibly be true? It didn’t matter. "Well, save your heart. I'm not interested."
CHAPTER THREE
Erik
They rested in the forest overnight, the city still a few hours walk ahead of them. Erik had been too emotionally drained to push himself or his men any farther, and the weather wasn't too terribly harsh. John brought him a cup of hot water the next morning, one of the men building a small fire and roasting a rabbit they’d caught while Erik lay tossing and turning.
The world was alive, the green of spring still hanging on as the seasons changed. The prince stood, stretching and turning a full circle to lay eyes on where everyone was. Most of the men were around the fire, but a younger male stood a distance away, his posture letting on more than he would most likely want.
Erik let out a soft sigh and walked to the man, stopping beside him and placing a hand on the other man's back. "Philip. What troubles you?"
Philip stopped moving and looked up, the emotion in his eyes bleeding out as he tried to make his face impassive. "What, my prince?"
"You're pacing as if working through large decisions, or waiting on a babe to be born." The minute he said the words, his heart contracted in his chest. Pain laced him and he had to work diligently to steel his own devastation in front of the young Viking.
"No, Sire. I'm fine. Just ready to get back home to my wife."
"You look too young to have a wife, boy." Erik pushed his own pain aside.
Philip's lip lifted in a smirk. "Well, I do. She's my crown jewel, my girl."
"We'll be home to her soon enough." Erik patted him again.
"She was with child when we left, so the bairn should be born any day now if I have my calculations right. I want to get home to them. I want the baby to know I'm its father. I want a boy."
"I can sympathize with you on that." Erik nodded, the sudden need to move away from the conversation pressing against him tightly. If Linzi was right, and his child lay growing in her tight stomach, he wouldn’t be there to hold it when it arrived. He wouldn't be the one raising it.
"Sire. You all right?" Philip reached out and then quickly dropped his hand, remembering his place.
"Fine.” Erik coughed and tried to cover his damn emotions. “Just feeling ill at the thought of having the responsibility of a woman and children.” He forced a chuckle. “That's for you... be glad of it."
They laughed as John called out. "Can we get moving, if you guys are done flirting?"
"Aye. We're done." Erik moved toward the men, his thoughts far from the present, his dreams dying one at a time.
The trip to the seaboard lasted the whole day. The heat hadn't been too stifling and the conversations were filled with hope of returning to Denmark. Erik explained the treachery set upon him by Marcus and Halfdan and the others filled him in on their journey since he left their side. He purposely left Linzi out of the picture, simply telling them he had been healed by a local medicine woman.
Only John knew the truth. Erik planned to keep it that way.
"The other men were meeting us here tonight." John looked over his shoulder as they moved into the small seaboard town. Very few people milled about the streets, but the city had been laid siege by Erik and his men only a few months before. No doubt they had yet to rebuild or gather their footing again. Denmark would need to send men to rule these new lands, or better yet, Erik would do it himself.
They slipped into a small tavern, the candled-light outside the small establishment giving credence to it being open. Erik walked toward the back of the large, poorly lit room and washed his hands in a small bucket of cold water. The various particles floating on top of the warm surface left him hesitant to splash his face with it. A small mirror sat on the wall and he glanced up, the fire in his eyes gone and a haggard-looking man staring back at him not someone he knew.
Could love really tear a man apart? When lost, force him to recreate himself into something different? He moved away, not wanting to face his demons without a few meads in his belly.
CHAPTER FOUR
Marcus
The air was near impossible to breathe. The wound in his chest burning as if on fire. He grunted softly as the large Viking yanked him forward and hoisted him on top of his shoulders. They moved deep into the forest, the scene fading in and out as Marcus tried to hold on. The plan would work... it always did.
They stopped a few minutes later, a few other hands brushing across him as they moved him to the upright position. Marcus leaned back, a large oak giving him stability where he could find none of his own.
"Grit your teeth and I'll seal the wound." A thick-muscled male leaned in and locked his gaze on Marcus. He was the same Viking that always seemed to have it out for Erik, never agreeing with the prince and always stirring up trouble of sorts. Marcus knew good and damn well who was on his side and who wasn't. Several of the men he brought with him were on the fence, but it would be a good show to have some of them join Erik and make the skit look more believable.
"Make it quick." Marcus closed his eyes and let out a soft growl as a knife recut the wound. He pressed his fingers to his chest as blood wept through and dripped down the front of his white shirt. A stick was shoved into his mouth sideways.
"Move your hands." The man shoved Marcus' hands from in front of him and tore his shirt. He reached for a sword laying inside the fire and pressed the side of the blade against Marcus’ wound.
He screamed out and bit against the wood to stifle the cry. Marcus fought the darkness, begging to let go of the pain.
“We need to do the same to the wound on his back,” the man with the burning sword said.
Several other soldiers jogged from the edge of the forest, one of them speaking loudly.
"Pick him up and let's get the hell out of here." His name was Paul... or Peter or...
"Wha's yer name?" Marcus said when he s
pat the wood out. "Is it Paul?"
"Yes, Captain. Hold on and we'll get you out of here. The traitor believes you to be dead. Your plan’s worked from what we can tell. There are healers all around these parts. We'll find one and get you back to health."
Marcus mumbled a command before the world darkened.
"He's coming to, now. Go and get the old woman."
Marcus tried to blink, his body not responding as quickly as he wanted. Sleep sat on top of him and his battle to push past it was being lost.
"Keep him awake." An elderly woman's voice tugged at his attention. Who was the old crook and what the hell was he doing off the battlefield? A sharp smack connected with his cheek and his eyes opened, the wiry-haired witch standing above him. "Wake up!"
"Who the hell are you?" Marcus tried to sit up, but the world spun around him as his cheek burned from her assault. His chest burned, itched and ached all at the same time.
"I'm a medicine woman. Your friends here brought you in because you were bleeding to death." She tugged at his arm, moving it as she checked the bandages on his chest.
"How long has it been?" Probably a week, he’d take quite the beating to fool Erik.
"About a day. I would say the gods have some purpose in you, seeing that you've survived the wound you received."
"Water.” He was thirsty.
“Small amounts.” She handed him a tiny cup.
He gulped it and would have demanded more but she pulled the cup from him and set it on the table. “Where’s Paul? I want to see one of my men. Get back woman." He swatted at her, but his efforts were moot. He was too tired to fight her off, too worn to do anything but sink back into the comfort of the stale smelling sheets.
Paul moved into his line of view. He waited for Marcus to speak.
"What happened?"
"You provoked the prince and he attacked as we knew he would. I stabbed you as you requested, careful to not cause damage. The death was a success. I'm glad you thought ahead. There's no way we would have gotten out of there without Erik taking more than half the men to his side. That was not part of the plan."