‘And you’ll keep it?’
‘Always.’
‘At last,’ he said, smiling. ‘I have found something to give you.’
Placing her arms around his neck, she could so easily have told him that she believed he had already done that, except that she could not be sure he would be pleased to father a bastard on the woman he was determined not to keep for more than a year.
‘You’re trembling,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing. Just a chill. Let’s go and disturb Haesel and Hrolf, shall we?’
* * *
As the summer heat rose over the flat landscape, warm rain turned the fields into a green-and-yellow patchwork scattered with red poppies, while the men used the weeks to erect more houses, to repair ships and to pile the warehouses with merchandise ready for the last of the foreign buyers. Graciously, Aric helped his cousin with the horses, secretly admiring Freya’s determination and independence, and Fearn would have been at a loose end had it not been for the gentle tasks her mother gave her in the infirmary. Now was the time for gathering the medicinal herbs and preparing them, an occupation she would have enjoyed more if she had been able to rid herself of the nagging doubts about her future and that of the child she was now certain she carried. Thanks to her mother’s recipe, the sickness was under control, making it easier for her to conceal her condition from Aric and his relatives.
If Aric had had more experience of pregnant lovers, Fearn thought, he might have suspected the reason for her swollen breasts and a certain lethargy in the daytime. Their loving, if one could call it that, had entered a different phase in which she preferred a gentler approach, just as satisfying, but less desperate than earlier encounters. She felt badly about maintaining a pretence of her monthly courses, but this happened only three times before a significant event made it imperative for Fearn to decide on some action after weeks during which it looked as if everyone except herself was in control of her situation.
That day, the quayside was crowded with merchants and their wares, with dejected groups of slaves, buyers and hagglers, and what looked like the total population of Lindholm, including children and animals. Aric and Loki had spent the last hour loading three mares and their excitable foals into the hold of a ship and now stood with Fearn and Freya to watch the ship and its cargo move out into the fjord, the backs of the men’s tunics dark with sweat. Berths along the quayside were occupied by an assortment of vessels, except for a space left by the one that had just departed, towards which a large seagoing ship with a mightily curving prow and a complement of twenty or more rowers approached with expert precision.
The Danes watched in admiration as the crew, well drilled and wearing matching blue-and-red livery, brought the ship alongside the jetty and tied it up, stowing the long oars on to the brackets under the neatly tied up sail. ‘That livery...that ship...is exactly like...no, it cannot be,’ Fearn said.
‘Who? Who can’t it be?’ said Aric. ‘You recognise it?’
‘That’s Earl Thored’s livery and that’s his ship. And there...look...a boy is waving to us.’ Holding on to the curve of the prow as it sprung upwards, a slender young boy waved to them excitedly, his flaxen hair shining in the bright light, his face a picture of glee at recognising familiar figures. ‘It is him,’ Fearn cried, shaking Aric’s arm. ‘It is. It’s Kean and there behind him...his parents, Arlen and Kamma, too. Oh, they’ve come! In the Earl’s own ship!’
‘The new Earl,’ Aric said. ‘He’s sent Thored’s son away. Back to his family. Well, well! He doesn’t want the lad under his feet, by the look of things.’
Ignoring the negative tone of Aric’s voice, Fearn ran along the jetty to the ship from which Kean was leaping. ‘Freya!’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Come and see! Aric’s nephew, at last.’ Opening her arms wide, she waited for the soft slam of Kean’s light young body and his skinny arms around her as they had never been before, still hardly able to believe this was not a dream. Totally unexpected and even un-hoped-for, it seemed to be the answer to all her worries and to Aric’s insistence on revenge and retribution. Here was the final phase to his absurd saga.
‘Lady Fearn!’ Kean grinned up at her. ‘See, I’m here! What a voyage! I’m going to be a sailor and have ships of my own. The men say I’m one already, but I’m so glad to see you again, lady.’
‘And I you, Kean. You’ll never know how much. Here comes your uncle and this lady is Freya, another relative of yours. Shall you greet them with respect?’ She need not have been concerned about any latent animosity towards his uncle for creating a rift in their family that day in Jorvik, for Kean had been well schooled in good manners and needed no prompting. His parents came along the jetty with a noticeable roll to their walk, Kamma clutching at her husband’s arm for support and Arlen proudly watching his foster son’s dignified bow to their surprised host and his avuncular hug in return.
‘You certainly have a knack of taking people by surprise, young Kean. Eh? But you are more than welcome. Have you come to stay?’ he said to Arlen, rather unnecessarily, Fearn thought.
‘I can only apologise, my lord,’ Arlen said. ‘We were given no say in the matter. Our new Earl, a man known as Alfhelm, was none too keen on having Thored’s bas...er...son around. Thinking, I suppose, that he might one day be a threat to his position. You know how these things can happen, I’m sure. Quite without foundation, I might add.’
Arlen might have added quite a bit more had Aric not put up a hand to stop him, perhaps remembering how once he had offered information out of turn. ‘Quite so, these things do happen, but you have been sent to friends. Our family has been eager for the day when we could have Kean to live with us, but to have his parents also will make the transition so much easier. Have you brought your entire property, too?’ He looked towards the ship where the liveried men stood around a huge pile of canvas-covered luggage stacked in the centre.
‘All our goods and chattels, my lord,’ said Kamma, ‘though my husband has now been replaced as Moneyer, so has had to leave behind all the tools of his trade. A great loss to us, it is.’
If Aric detected a hint of self-pity here, he chose to ignore it and the slight suggestion that he might offer Arlen a similar employment, though the position of Moneyer was in the King’s gift, not his. Instead, he offered them his hospitality and immediate attention to their needs. Placing an arm around Kean’s shoulders, he shook the hand of the English shipmaster, and gave orders to Loki to attend to the crew and bring them up to the longhouse. Glancing at Fearn, he could not have missed the expression of undiluted delight in her eyes as she took Kamma by the hand to lead her through the curious crowds who parted, gawping at the Jarl’s English guests. He could hardly have guessed, however, at the level of hope in her heart at the implications of Kean’s arrival. It was a perfectly logical act for Thored’s successor to rid himself of any potential opposition, however young, but how could he have known that this now removed Aric’s last objection to Fearn’s return home? In her mind, at least.
* * *
‘Was that ship the one you saw?’ she asked Haesel at supper that evening. ‘Is that what your seeing meant? That Kean would be returned to his mother’s family?’
Yet again, Haesel searched her mind for the vision but could not be sure. It could have been, she told Fearn, but one ship was very like another to her.
The supper tables were packed with Aric’s family and friends, invited to welcome the English guests and the hearty hungry crew who had brought them. Chief amongst the relatives was Wenda, Kean’s aunt, still rather a fragile creature, but overjoyed to make contact with the good-looking English son of her sister. She lost no time in telling him and his weary parents how well she and Olof would care for him and how he would spend his days with his cousins. When her husband reminded her that his parents would probably do that, the question of exactly where Kean
would be living was referred to Aric. ‘With his parents, of course,’ he said, smiling at his nephew. ‘There’s an empty plot at the side of yours, Olof, isn’t there? We’ll clear that and put a house there. We can start on it tomorrow while we’ve got all these extra hands to help.’
The burly English shipmaster was not quite so eager. ‘I have orders, my lord, to return to Jorvik immediately, once we have restocked with provisions. Your hospitality is of the finest, but we must not trespass on it one day more than we need to.’
Aric laughed. ‘What? Come, man. You would dump your precious cargo here without making sure they have a roof over their heads? Your new Earl would not reward you for that, would he? One day will make no difference to a fine ship like yours carrying a lighter load. Another few meals and warm dry beds will do your men good. What do you say?’
‘We shall be happy to help, my lord,’ said the shipmaster with as good a grace as he could muster.
‘A house, so soon,’ Arlen said. ‘We are truly grateful, my lord.’
To Fearn, this seemed like the ideal opportunity for Aric to announce, in public, that the promise he had made to his family to reunite Kean with his relatives was now fulfilled, even though events had been brought forward by the death of Thored. But though she waited, nothing was said to give her any hope that Aric might arrange for her and Haesel to sail with the English shipmaster and his experienced crew back to Jorvik, or even to Lundenburh. She did not dare suggest it yet, to risk spoiling the celebration, to risk a disappointing refusal, or an argument. This was Kean’s occasion, not hers. She must be patient and choose her moment with care. And if the opportunity was ignored by him, then she would have to resolve matters in her own way, for she could not allow this chance to slip through her fingers. She spent the rest of the meal talking to Kamma about events in Jorvik, asking for news of Mother Bridget and the nuns, and anything else that would ease her curiosity.
* * *
Bedding down so many guests in the great hall called for some good-natured organisation, so it was very late when Fearn retired to her chamber and settled down to rest, tired by the excitement of the day, but by no means ready for sleep with so many facets to the problems in her mind. Ought she try to speak to the shipmaster in private? Would he be willing to risk Aric’s wrath? Would it be fair to ask him to help? She had but one day to make up her mind before the chance was lost for good.
The door opened quietly, and one decision was resolved as Aric came to her, as naked as she was and as hungry for the bliss of warm arms. Pressing herself along his length, she wondered how she would live without this, a question closely followed by thoughts of the year ahead, watching her infant develop and him turning to another woman for the kind of comfort men craved when their women were pregnant. Not being able to discuss the issue with him, all she had to feed her concerns were assumptions.
Almost angrily, her lips sought his as her arms cradled his head in a grip he could hardly escape until, sensing her rising passion, he rolled her until she was beneath him, her face half-covered by her hair. Holding her hands away, he moved his lips downwards, following a teasing path along throat and shoulders, coming at last to the tender swell of her breasts where the nipples, had he been able to see, were noticeably darker and more pronounced. A cry escaped her, part-desire and part-fear for the energies she herself had unleashed which, although recently diminished, now surged into a torrent of emotion that paid no heed to the delicate thing that lay between them. For weeks, her thoughts had revolved around this new life, alternating between joy and fulfilment, inconvenience and physical discomfort, yet now these thoughts were overtaken by a need to experience the full flood of his virility before she was forced to renounce it altogether, as she knew she would have to.
Taking full responsibility for the pace, she teased him in turn, sending him mixed messages of willingness and reluctance, opening herself to him, then fighting him off until, taking pity on his groans of frustration, she took him into her hand and guided him to the place that ached and throbbed with desire. He had refused her demands of a different sort over the past few months. She did not know, at that moment, a better way to revenge herself. Bracing herself for the inevitable fierceness of his pent-up craving, she gave herself up to him generously while savouring each and every moment, writing it into her memory against those years of self-imposed abstinence, urging him on towards an experience neither of them would forget.
There was very little of gentleness, this time, he having no reason to suspect that it might have been more appropriate in the circumstances of which he knew nothing. For Fearn, it was what she wanted to experience, this being the essence of Aric, his potency and power, his strength and skill in bringing her, every time, to a place of unchartered ecstasy by whatever route he chose. It was a risk and she chose to take it, for their time together was running out. When the mind-numbing spasm had passed, Aric spooned her into him and placed a hand over her breast. ‘That was rough, sweetheart. Did I hurt you? I didn’t want to,’ he whispered.
‘It’s all right,’ she replied. ‘Really. That was wonderful.’ How much more, she thought, would she rather have discussed the state of her heart and the pain she would have to prepare it for. Why did he not have a heart that she might break instead? Why was it always the woman to suffer?
* * *
Fearn rose early the next morning, but her chances of speaking to the English shipmaster disappeared when she saw that the men had all been out since daybreak working on the plot for Arlen’s new house. The family had stayed overnight with Wenda and Olof’s family, ready to lend a hand with the constant refreshments, so Fearn took the opportunity to visit Clodagh and Oslac, hoping for their approval of her rudimentary plan. She had not been prepared for the strength of their opposition, however, when she told them how she hoped to make use of the English ship and its crew. ‘Of course you cannot leave, Fearn,’ said Oslac, putting forward reasons that only a man would think of. ‘Supposing the new Earl doesn’t want you to return to Jorvik? If he doesn’t want Kean there, he certainly won’t want you, will he?’
‘I have a half-sister in Lundenburh,’ Fearn reminded him. ‘She will.’
‘But we’ve only just found each other,’ he urged, ‘after all these years and I was just beginning to get used to having you around.’
Clodagh rolled her eyes, dismissing his argument. ‘Fearn, love,’ she said, ‘you’re not thinking of what’s best for the babe, are you?’
‘I am, Mother, but I’m also thinking of how much pain my heart will endure if I have the babe here in Lindholm and Aric doesn’t want it, for some reason. He can put me aside as soon as he discovers I’m expecting his child, if he wishes. Besides, he has no love for me. He said right from the start that there was no room for sentiment and I truly believe he doesn’t know how to love a woman. He told me I’d have to find my own way of dealing with it, if I thought I loved him, because that’s not what he wants. He wants to eke out his revenge for a whole year, no more, no less. I dare not ask him to reconsider letting me go now that Kean is here, when he was so adamant before. Better to let him think I’ve accepted the situation. I don’t want him to suspect I might try to escape on the English ship. That would ruin all my chances.’
‘But if it’s Aric’s acceptance of the babe that concerns you, you know you could come here to be with me. You’d both be quite safe here and Aric respects what we do.’
‘It would be safer to be with Elf, out of Aric’s reach. In England. She and Ethelred are Christians, too, remember, and there’d be no exposing of girls or weaklings there. The plight of poor Wenda haunts me, Mother.’
‘It probably haunts Aric, too, my dear. He was very taken with little Meld. I cannot believe seeing her has not made him think differently about such things.’
‘He’s determined to keep me here for a year, though. So what if I had a strong healthy boy? A son of Aric the Ruthle
ss. You think he’d let the child go to England with me? Think again. He wouldn’t. He’d keep it here.’
‘But, Fearn, dearest, you cannot travel so far in your condition. It would not be wise, would it? Think of the discomforts and dangers. For all you know, the English shipmaster may take less care of you than Aric did. You cannot leave now, Fearn. We’d be losing each other again, wouldn’t we? After such a short time, too.’
‘Mother! Please...stop it! Can you not see how hard this is for me, too? I thought of all people, you would be the first to understand.’
‘I do understand, love...’
‘No, you don’t!’ Despairing, Fearn went to the doorway, but halted by the large loom against the wall, resting her forehead upon the upright, trying to force back the tears, her shoulders trembling with the effort.
Clodagh went to lay a gentle hand upon her back. ‘Then tell me what it is I don’t understand and I will try. I know that you are deeply in love with him.’
Fearn nodded, croaking an affirmative. ‘More than I can say,’ she whispered. ‘But there is no love in his heart, Mother, and I cannot let him see me growing big with a child he doesn’t want, growing clumsy and so unlike the woman he stole because he desired her. I cannot live with him like that, in spite of loving him. Seeing him turn to another woman would kill me. And yet I want his child so very much.’
Her mother’s voice was soft and sad. ‘I lost my lover, Fearn. I almost lost my husband, too. And I lost you for all the years I should have been there for you. I had to hand you over to Hilda, knowing she did not want you. And I survived. You and I are strong. As women, we have to be.’
Fearn did not want to be convinced. ‘No, I’m not strong enough to wait and see what happens, nor am I strong enough to bear the pain when it does happen. I’m due early next year. I dare not leave it any longer. Soon it will start to show. I have to leave.’ She felt Clodagh’s arms encircle her waist and the weight of her head rest upon her back, and for some time no more was said as the two came to the end of their arguments. They clung, weeping, agreeing to say nothing to Oslac when he could not be trusted to keep the information from Aric, though Fearn still had no idea how her plan might be carried out. Their goodbye was over hands drenched with tears.
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